The Happy Smiley Dib Show
by V the Happy Lurker
Summary: Welcome to the end of trilogy. Thrill as Gaz goes on a rip roaring campaign of VENGEANCE! Squee in terror as Zim slips even further into MADNESS! Vomit in disgust as V stuffs EVEN MORE stupid movie spoofs into one fic! And, yes, there will be slash!
1. Tumbling Down…

(Peeks out her head) Uh… hello? Welcome to the sequel of the sequel to _Invader Scorned_ . This intro is for those of you out there going "WTF?!" over the ending of Domo, so the rest of you can just skip down to the goodness. Alrightee then! About the 'sudden' shift from darkish comedy to slasher-horror angst: THAT'S HOW I PLANNED IT. I had been planning that ending, from the giant battle to Dib in coma since the writing of about chapter three.Yes, I know the ZADR wasn't as blatant or smutty as most fics out there, but it was there…in a rather twisted, _Silence of the Lambs_ kind of way. Just be patient, there'll be plenty of smut later on. And those weird loose ends, like what happened to Gaz and why Zim's got a psychotic attitude problem, plus what went down during the five months after the battle. So, hunker down and get set for yet another round of obscure pop references, massive plot holes, violence, and more movie rip-offs than ever dreamed possible in one fanfic! Think of it as my belated holiday gift for you all.

_**Disclaimer :** I don't own Zim. If I did, there'd be more blood, more profanity, and more nudity. And chorus boys._

**__**

**The Happy Smiley Dib Show**

"What's wrong, _Gaz_?" Zim mocked, watching the poison take it's toll on her. "Not feeling well?"

"RA-ARGH!!" Desperately, she swung her bat at him but she's so weakened that it slips from her hands. The force of the swing unbalanced her and Gaz fell forward onto the carpet.

"Hmmm… forty-seconds. Not bad…For a human." Causally, Zim looked down at her. "Don't feel too badly about how things turned out, _Gaz_. It's nothing personal… Well, okay, so maybe it _is._ " he sneered. Lazily, he picked up the bat, weighed it, then tossed it aside. "You were quite a formidable opponent. It took me almost an entire _day_ to come up with the perfect method to dispose of you. I'm amazed that this simple trick worked on you. I've always thought you were the more suspicious type… What do you think of that, _Gaz_?"

There was a pause, as if Zim expected an answer. She could barely focus on face blurring in green and red as he leaned over her.

"Did somebody take you tongue?" asked the alien, in sarcastic tone.

Without a sound, Gaz began the slide into a swirling dark cesspool of unconsciousness. The last thing she's aware of is Zim cooing softly in her ear. "Good-night… Sleep tight…my love…"

---

A deserted road twisted through acres of gently rustling corn stalks. Down the road barrels a cream 1969 RX87 Luce Rotary Coupe, top down and headlights glaring, with a girl at the wheel. Santeria's "Black Magic Women" blasts out from the speakers in an ominous counterpoint to howling wind. There's a blood-caked bat in the passenger seat and a calm look of cold murder on her face.

"Looked dead, didn't I?" Gaz growls to nobody in particular. "But I wasn't. But it wasn't from lack of trying, I can tell you that. Actually, Zim's little trick put me in a coma - A coma I was to lie in for four weeks. When I woke up, I went on what the movie advertisements refer to as a 'roaring rampage of revenge.' I roared. And I rampaged. And I got bloody satisfaction."

Thunder rumbles in the thick black clouds.

"I've killed a hell of a lot of people to get to this point, but I have only one more." She smiles madly. "The last one. The one I'm driving to right now. The only one left. And when I arrive at my destination, I am gonna kill Zim."

A murder of crows goes wheeling up from the cornfields in a crazy tornado of caws and feathers into the darkness.

_---  
**Chapter One:** Tumbling Down…_

By the time she had come to, it was already over. Gaz felt like she'd been thrown into a industrial sized threshing machine. The room was lit by the glow of garishly colorful bunnies bounding on the TV. Sometime during that period, she'd been moved off of the floor at Zim's house and propped up on the edge of her own couch back home. She was pretty sure that it was the robot-dog-_thing­, _G.I.R.?, had done that and it must've stuck around for a good while since she found herself coated in crumbs and empty burrito wrappers. As she shook off the throbbing pain in the back of her skull, Gaz dug the remote out from beneath a junk-food garbage pile on the table and flicked through the channels. She really wasn't looking for anything, just skimming the 3,000 cable stations to get her bearings a little. But when she hit the block of 24-hour news networks, Gaz felt the world as she knew it be ripped out from underneath her.

"…the following footage maybe too graphic for older viewers…"

"…officials are calling it the single most gruesome zombie attack this week…"

"…it's just… horrible! Words cannot begin to describe this bloodbath…"

"…HOLY FU-(the sound of vomiting over quick, jerky shots of a gore-coated window)…"

"…-oh god! They've found a survivor …"

"…emergency workers are frantically trying to keep him alive…"

"…still no word as to his condition …"

"…head was slashed opened! Like a melon! A big gushy melon…"

"…it is indeed a black day across the world as doctors keep working to stabilize…"

The remote slide to the carpet with a thump as Gaz gaped in mute horror at the images flashing across the screen. Clips of paramedics and a frantic Professor Membrane climbing into the ambulance with them were interspliced with still photos of Dib. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a joke… A sick, sick joke…

"MORNIN' SCARY LADY!"

Instinctive, Gaz lashed out and rendered the platter full of waffles G.I.R. was offering to a splattering of syrupy goo.

The robot frowned , looking sadly at the pieces of plate it held. "Aww… but I put dish-soap and cement in them."

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" It wasn't a question so much as a prelude to violent death.

"My orders are to return the Gaz to her base and keep her from interfering, sir!" G.I.R. barked, then it snapped out of duty-mode and began giggling insanely. "I'm gonna make more waffles! And cupcakes!" At that, the robot bolted back into the kitchen.

Gaz glared for a second more then followed the drippings to the counter where G.I.R. was merrily stirring a bucket of pork brine into it's latest batch of pancakes. After it dump in some more nasty looking products into the batter, she spoke up.

"What's going on?"

"Duh! I'm cooking!" It turned and held out the bowl. "Wanna help?!"

As she watched, a fish head bubbled to the surface. "No."

The robot shrugged and went back to stirring.

"Listen," Gaz growled. "All I want the know what Zim's done to my loser brother. And I want to know _NOW…_"

G.I.R. rolled it's eyes, oblivious to the danger. "Duh… Master went and chopped up the **_girl_** to make Dib show up so he could kill him too! And then he was gonna blow everybody up cause he don't like this planet! Explosions are pretty…"

"Where's Zim now?" came the mildly frantic hiss.

The robot paused its stirring as its expression shifted to something like deep concentration. G.I.R. started to say something, then stopped, then began to open its mouth again but just gaped at her. Finally, it shrugged.

Gaz snarled in frustration and stomped out of the room, leaving G.I.R. to finish its waffles. Normally, when something made Gaz made, Gaz would make it dead, but somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to mutilate the robot. Maybe it was the fact that G.I.R. was just too…too…well, too _stupid_ to kill. Besides, it was the sole link she had right now to Zim even if the robot was a schizophrenic moron.

All of a sudden, it occurred to Gaz that maybe G.I.R. wasn't her only source of information. She knew from years of being subjected to Dib's insane ramblings that her brother kept an extensive, if not _obsessive_, amount of information on Zim. Even when he supposedly quit chasing the alien, Dib maintain 24-7 surveillance with a horde of bugs which were still recording every single move Zim made in his base to this day. And then there were all the times she'd walked in on her brother brooding over the stuff in that filing cabinet hidden in his closet. Dib had always been the anal-retentive type…

Shaking off an odd sense of sadness, Gaz looked up and noticed that she was now staring at the door to Dib's bedroom. She let it open slowly and stood in the doorway for a moment. The room was tomb quiet and dark, but she found herself hesitating to turn the light on. It was as if shedding light on whatever was inside would be a gravely blasphemous act, but she quickly shrugged that thought off and flicked the switch anyway.

There was nothing special revealed when the bulb flashed on. The same stupid posters hung around the walls Dib always had them on. The same stacks of the same books and the same comics Dib always read were crammed in shelves. The same stupid models Dib always piddled with were set up the same way Dib always set them. The same bed, still made, sat right under the same window looking out on the same street and sky Dib always looked out on. The same damn computer was sitting on the same desk with the same chair Dib always sat in pushed up against it. And without looking, she knew the same dumb clothes Dib always wore hung in the same closet. It was the same fucking room Dib always had, only it wasn't the same any more because Dib was…

"Why you crying?"

"Eh?" Furiously, Gaz scrubbed away the wetness on her face. "I wasn't… it's just dusty in here, okay?!"

"Ho-kay!" Looking mindlessly happy, G.I.R. plopped itself down on the floor to devour the pile of waffles it brought along as Gaz slumped into Dib's chair.

Tuning out the nasty chomping sounds, she took the computer out of sleep mode and started searching through the massive backlog of paranormal data Dib had for anything Zim related. After nearly six hours of skimming through garbage like the mating habits of la chupacabra and ways to tell the various Illuminati groups apart, Gaz was about ready to pound the computer to hell with her bat when a rather unobtrusive icon caught her eye. Giving it a half-hearted click, her curiosity increased when a pop-up box appeared that looked like something for an online chat-group.

The username "Agent Mothman" was already typed into it's corresponding blank, leaving only an empty password box below. Below that was a little ticking bomb clock displaying 1:58 and below _that _was a block of text in bright red, bold-faced type:

"**WARNING! You have 2 minutes to enter the correct and valid username/password combination. Entering an incorrect/invalid combination four times or not finishing before time runs out _will_ result in your computer self-destructing with a 4-yard blast radius. If you've lost or forgotten your password, please log-in and access the "change password" panel in your user options. Thank you and have a nice day.**"

Gaz snorted in contempt. She'd cracked harder codes then this on baby games. Feeling somewhat more in her element now, she smugly typed in "extraterrestrial" and clicked the sign-in button. To her surprise, she got an ERROR alert. Trying again, she tried "paranormalist" only to get another ERROR alert.

The timer was at 1:21 and still ticking away.

Only one chance left now, and if she blew it… Gaz growled angrily and racked her brains for an answer. Surely it had to be _something_ stupid and weird, like "Big-foot" or "aliens" or crap like that! While she fumed and thought, the precious seconds kept ticking away…

Suddenly, G.I.R. leapt up and latched on to her legs squealing, "I LOVES YOU, MOMMY!"

"Mommy?!" In flash, Gaz had her answer and she hastily pounded in the word "mother" before the countdown reached 0:05.

"Password: ACCEPTED!" announced a very sultry female voice. "Welcome, Agent Mothman. You have 2,753 unread mails and 42 requests for private chat from Agent Darkbootie currently waiting. Do you accept the request?"

"Whatever." Gaz muttered, clicking the ACCEPT button.

"At last!" gasped the red-eyed silhouette on a floating screen that appeared from nowhere. "Where have you been agent Mothman? We all have been trying to contact you to confirm the rumors. Do you have any idea how-- Hey! You're not Mothman!"

"No shit, Sherlock. I'm his sister, G-"

"SHUSH! Don't give me your _name_!" Darkbootie barked, looking rather panicked for a silhouette. "It's bad enough you've compromised our secrecy without you also breaking over a decade's worth of confidentiality protocols!"

"But you have been watching the news lately?"

"Well, yes…"

"And it's obvious that you're concerned with 'Agent Mothman', right?"

"Umm…yah."

"Then it doesn't take a fucking genius to figure out who the hell Mothman is!" snapped Gaz.

"You never know… He could've been one of the zombies…"

She barely restrained the urge to punched out the screen, instead slipping it to an apathetic tone. "Listen, I haven't got the time, the patience, or the desire to know _why_ your interested in Di- Agent Mothman. All I want is to know what you have on the alien Zim."

Darkbootie blinked. "Zim? The green kid?"

"Yes. The green kid."

"He's not an alien. According to Dib, a noteworthy and trusted member of the paranormalist community- who is in no possible way connected to the Swollen Eyeballs or, specifically, Agent Mothman-, he's just some schmuck with a skin disease and a mental disorder…"

Gaz snorted. "And you really believe that?"

"Not really. In fact, after reviewing the heaps of information Mothman has sent me over the years, I'm now almost positive that this 'Zim' is actually an alien. Maybe not a hundred percent sure, but pretty damn close. Like, say, 99.999999 sure."

"Right. So do you have any solid information or not?"

"You mean there isn't anything on Mothman's computer?"

"Oh no! I've spent most of the night reading sasquatch and Elvis' bastard lovechild for kicks. Of course I fucking checking the computer! The closet I got to aliens was a .doc file of 'All Work And No Play Make Dibby A Dull Boy' typed over and over again."

Darkbootie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, have you tried looking for porn?"

A look of pure, horrified disgust flashed over her face. "Excuse me?!"

"I know it sounds bizarre, but I assure you that's where the files are going to be."

Gaz slowly got over her horror but she still wasn't convinced. "Are you sure he…"

"Look," grumbled Darkbootie. "We both know Agent Mothman was a bit…_odd_. Especially about Zim. Now, where else do you think he'd keep them?"

She snarled, but did a search for porn anyway. There was now a listing of over 4,000 folders with a range of titles that included 'eldritchkarmasutra' and 'embalming'. Gaz refrained from thinking too long about why her brother would have autopsy footage in his porn stash, instead looking for anything that looked Zim-related. In a short time, she found all the Zim she could stomach. Scrolling through file after file of devoted to the alien lunatic, the seeds of a plan were fermenting in her thoughts. She was just getting to an interesting idea about using rabid Tasmanian devils and peanut butter when Darkbootie cut back in.

"Need any more help?" he asked, also not thinking about the 'porn'…

"Not yet. I'll call you if I do." Her stomach began rumbling loudly, prompting her to exit the Zim folder. As she reached to log-out of the Swollen Eyeball network, Agent Darkbootie suddenly spoke up.

"Wait! Before you leave, what do you want to be your name?"

Gaz paused and thought for a moment. "Call me Piggy Hunter."

"Very well. Good night, Agent Piggy Hunter…"

With that, Gaz cut off the computer and looked down at the robot curled up at her feet. "Get up, G.I.R. We've gotta go out for a bit."

"Why?" yawned the robot.

"Cause I'm hungry and Bloaty's doesn't deliver after 2 am…"

Squealing in delight, G.I.R. leapt to his feet and followed Gaz out into the hall. She stopped for a second, finger poised on the light switch, and took one more look at Dib's empty room.

"CLICK!" The world snaps to blackness.

---

a/n: Okay, so it's not a great start and I'm still ripping off Kill Bill, but it will make sense later. Trust me, there will be sense later on… I hope…


	2. Sht Adds Up At The Bottom

I did know it was the original title of "Dib's Wonderful Life of Doom", and there's a reason I'm using it. But I won't spoil it for you all by telling. Now, there's gonna be some rather heavy angst, druga, and a little- wait for it -SMUT! Written to the musical accompaniment of Type O Negative and Tool. Enjoy.

**Chapter Two:** _Shit Adds Up At the Bottom_

Exhausted and in more pain than he thought conceivable, Zim stumbled through the living room with the wailing screams of sirens still ringing in his ears. He slid down the toilet entrance and, straightening the tattered trench coat hanging off his beaten body, he let out a ragged little sigh. It felt like his belly was being torn open from the inside… All he wanted right now was a good lay down, a case full of pain-killers…and maybe a soda. Which is way Zim was staggering his way towards the sick-bay when Skoodge came running up to him.

"Sir, I've important news from-"

"Not now!" hissed Zim, gripping his belly. "I need to get to the sick-bay."

"But sir!" stammered the pudginess, jogging alongside his superior as they moved down the ultra-tech hallway. "This is of the utmost importance!"

"Can't it wait?! I'm a little busy dying here…"

Not sure how to break the news to his severely demented leader, Skoodge rubbed his antenna fretfully. "Uh, well sir, I don't think he'd appreciate it if I told him to call back later… I mean, I've already had to put him on hold for about an hour."

"Put who on hold?" grumbled Zim as he dug up a medkit.

"His Almighty Tallest Purple!" gasped Skoodge in a annoyingly reverent tone. "He called to tell you that…"

Forcing down a handful of pills, he motioned Skoodge to silence. "Look, this is not the time for your stupid attempts at humor. So why don't you make yourself useful and get the hell out of my face."

"But it's he's a TALLEST, sir!"

"Whoop-de-frickin'-doo! Tell _her_ royal pain-in-the-ass that _she_ can just call back later. The last thing I need tonight is to listen to some overpaid drag-queen bitch me out for shit that I haven't done yet!"

"I heard that, ZIM!" snapped Purple, who was now glaring down at them from the monitor.

Groaning, Zim put the medkit down and turned to face the wrath of his supreme (and fabulous!) overlord. "Oh, hello my Tallest…" he muttered in a half-hearted drone. "It's a pleasure to see you. The mission's proceeding as planned… yadda-yadda… Better have the fleet ready. I'll have the dirtball conquered soon…and all that stuff."

"Eh, you alright there Zim?" Purple asked, staring at the gaping hole in Zim's face where his eyeball used to be.

"Oh, most certainly, _sir_! Why, I had just come back to base from playing with my pet monkey when I decided to drop by the sick-bay on a lark…. " Shifting from snarky to psycho, Zim roared, "OF COURSE I'M NOT FUCKING ALRIGHT, YOU MORON! I'm bleeding all over the damn place and I'm pretty sure that there's some massive organ damage because my insides feel like they're on fucking fire here!"

"Sir!" Leaping in-between Zim and the monitor, Skoodge tried to save some face. "Please forgive Zim's outburst, your Tallest! I assure you it's the drugs talking and he doesn't really think you're a moron."

"The hell I don't!" Backhanding Skoodge, he leaned closer to the screen. "Can you just tell me what the hell you assholes want now so I can get back to my miserable exile?"

"Ah, is that why you're cranky about, Zimmy dear?" cooed Purple with a million dollar smile plastered on his face. "Afraid we had left you to die on some nameless rock ball?"

Taken aback, he blinked dumbly at Purple. "Uh, yah. You said it yourself: I'm a uselessly destructive defect."

Laughing softly, Purple shook his head. "Oh no I didn't, hun. Red's the one that called you that."

"But I swore I heard- Wait a second. Did you just call me 'hun'?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised Zim." came the chuckle. "I just wanna say that I'm sorry for being so mean to you in the past. Without you, neither Red nor I could've ever become the Tallest. You know I've always had a special place deep, deep, _deep_ in the cockles of my heart for you, sweetie. And I've always wanted to-eh, _thank you _for killing off old What's-His-Face… But I never really could do anything about it before because of Red. You see, he's the really jealous type and gets oh so pissy whenever he thinks I'm being too nice to anybody else, especially if it's _you,_ Zim."

Feeling a bit woozy from blood lose and pills, Zim grinned sheepishly. "I'm…eh, touched that you feel that way, sir."

"Please, call me Purple."

"Okay…"

"Now, now: There's no need to act all modest, Zim." Purple mewed sweetly. "In fact, I was calling to tell you that the Irken Empire has decided to reward your hard work with a super special surprise! It should arrive at your base sometime tomorrow afternoon. I sure you'll just _love_ it!"

"Gee, thank you, si-Purple."

For an unbearable stretch of time, tense silence reigned as Zim squirmed awkwardly under the smirking leer of the Tallest. Realizing that he was losing a massive amount of blood, Zim finally spoke up.

"Well Purple… It's been nice talking with you, but I've gotta go bandage my head now before I black-out…"

Purple sighed, pouting a little. "If you really have to…"

"I'll, uh…call you later." Zim mumbled, giving him a lame smile.

"Right… You take care now, hun. Oh, and nice coat."

"Thanks."

On that note, the transmission was terminated.

Ignoring Skoodge, who had been watching on in silence, Zim limped over to the medkit and numbly tended to his wounds. He stripped off the trench coat and his tunic, spreading the coat out on a table before he laid down on it. It took a bit of groping to find the IV band and hook it up to the emergency blood tank, but he finally managed it with a mild yelp as the needle sunk in. There were some superficial cuts and bruises on his torso, but the pills had left Zim in a deadened state of apathy. It was strumming around his brain in droning swarms of sedative bees with so much buzzing that it barely registered when Skoodge came bounding up to him.

"Oh wow, sir! Not only are you getting honored, but the Tallests are sending us gifts too!" He squee-ed in rapture. "I'm so happy…"

"You shouldn't be." Zim sighed in a lazy monotone. "It's probably a bomb or a flesh-eating virus or something nasty like that."

Skoodge laughed weakly. "You…you don't mean that, sir."

"Don't be stupid, Skoodge. The only reason the Tallest would have for being so happy to see me is when they're about to make my life miserable. And if Purple's calling me 'sweetie', then we're definitely dead."

"We?!" squeaked the fatness.

"Yes, **_we_**." There was a hollow chuckle. "You don't think they'd let you live, do you Skoodge? The Tallests hate you just as much as they hate me. Why else would you have been sent to this shit-hole planet?"

"Because you…needed assistance?"

"Bullshit. They just needed an excuse to exile you. Because that's what we are, Skoodge. We're the rejects of the Empire, left stranded on Earth until the day we die. Or they finally decide to kill us."

"But, I don't wanna die!" howled the pudgy nugget. "Can't we just escape?"

"What's the point?" Zim's voice was slurring now. "If you want to try, I won't stop you. But I doubt you'll get very far before running into the Clean-up Crew. And we both know that you don't have the piloting skills to evade the Cleaners…"

Skoodge's antennae drooped, but he still managed to sneer, "So that's it, Zim? You're just going to lie there and die?"

"Actually, I was planning on resting for a bit before I go to that wretched Hi-Skool. After that, I'm gonna come home and then I'll die just like my Tallest want me to."

Gaping his mouth open to speak, Skoodge only managed a faint gurgle. It would be useless to say any more. Zim wasn't listening. So, in defeat, he turned away from his current commander and left Zim laying on the table to wait for the end.

-----

Throughout the night, Zim kept waking up to blue-and-red lights flashing in his brain. He downed more pills to stop himself from thinking about the butchered heap he'd left in his wake. But even that couldn't drive away the reek of human sweat or the sound the flesh made as he plunged his claws deeper inside. He found himself wrapping the tattered coat around his body, wallowing in a cocoon of filth and scum as he ground his hips together rhythmically.

The aching tear in his belly felt raw as rippling sensations ran across his nerves. It was an agonizing, yet pleasurable feeling which only increased the more Zim writhed. He couldn't suppress a low moan as his body jerked spasmodically to the aching throbs.

Gnashing his teeth, Zim tried to quiet the noises that kept bubbling out of his throat. A taste of acidic copper lingered in his mouth, jagged on his squirming tongue. Without thinking, he slide a hand against the sore swelling between his legs and nearly scream at the touch. It was slimy, dark, and warm like blood gushing out a wound. Heart pounding, his only thought of was how _good_ it felt to sink blades into a soft belly and watch a cold twisted grin break apart in a flash of shock. It surprised him how easily his own flesh yielded to the sharp thrusts of fingers probing against fabric.

Maybe it was the drugs that were making that pain-pleasure feeling so intense because felt as if he was being burned alive, but Zim didn't want to stop. He was hurting so badly now but for some inconceivable reason he _needed_ this. Suddenly, he didn't care who heard as sharp laughs barked out along with sobs and grunts. Zim was so far gone in the sensation that the convulsive spasms he was going through barely registered until at last the blinding shock caused him to black-out briefly.

With a spinning head, he came back to and very slowly relaxed from the tensed curl he had been in. The ebbing waves of a climax seeped away, leaving a hollowness and a sticky damp on his skin.

Zim rolled onto his back and growled. In a way, he felt strangely cheated that things had turned out this way. True, having Dib brokenly splayed out at his feet near death in growing pool of blood and dirt was a memory Zim knew he would treasure for the rest of his (sadly short) life, but it wasn't good enough. Even taking a few little souvenirs wasn't enough. Yet what more could he need? For years, his only desire was to completely annihilate the filthy worm-bag and get back to the mission.

"But the mission isn't real…"

"What?!" Jerking up, Zim looking frantically around the sickbay. "Who said that? Skoodge?"

"You never were a good Invader…"

Zim snarled. "If that's you, Skoodge, I'm going to rip your squeedly sploch out…"

"You weren't good for anything."

He ground his teeth. "I'm not listening to you anymore."

"You know you are a failure, right?"

"Be quiet."

"A total, utter failure…"

"I'm not a failure!"

"Don't deny the facts. Your entire life is failure after failure after failure…"

"I said be quiet!"

"Worthless. That's what you are. Absolutely worthless."

"BE QUIET!" Zim screamed, tearing at the sides of his face.

"And stupid, too."

"Who are you?!"

There was a faint laugh overhead. Zim turned his face up to face his tormentor. Clinging onto the ceiling like a freakish spider, the other Zim smiled. "Boo."

With a shriek, Zim scuttled off the table as the doppelganger dropped onto it. "What the hell are you?!"

The other Zim only smiled.

"Answer me!"

"Answer me." it mimicked.

"I told you to answer me, dammit!" Zim roared, advancing on his double.

"Answer me, dammit."

Holding up a fist, he moved closer. "I'm warning you…"

"You…" murmured the doppelganger.

Zim paused and stared at it. "You?" he muttered, pointing.

"Me." came the answer as it point back at him.

"No. I'm Zim."

"No," it replied calmly. "_I'm Zim."_

"IMPOSSIBLE!" he screeched. "I'M ZIM!!!! YOU ARE…ARE… eh, you are… NOT ZIM!"

The other Zim laughed. "Yes, I am Zim."

"YOU LIE!"

"**YOU'RE THE LIAR!" **screamed the double. "You're only a mass of lies! I'm the real Zim! Zim: the Liar! Zim: the Lunatic! Zim: the Defective!"

Roaring, Zim grabbed the double and slammed it up against the wall. "SHUT UP! YOU'RE NOT ME!!!"

"I am Zim… the Coward."

He slammed harder, smashing it with his fists until it was a bloodied pulp. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"SQUEAK?!"

Zim whirled on his heels, hissing madly. For a moment, all he could see was a red haze which slowly dissolved to reveal Minimoose hovering in front of him. He turned back to see the double, but there was only a dented and blood-stained wall.

"Did you see him?!" gasped Zim.

"Squeak?"

"What do you mean 'see who'?! That…that guy! From the ceiling…"

Looking deeply concerned for levitating super-weapon with only a fixed expression of happiness, Minimoose moved closer. "Squeak?"

"Don't look at me like that! I'm perfectly alright!"

"Squeak."

"Bleeding? I'm not…" Holding up his arm, Zim finally noticed the blood flowing down his arm from where the IV band had been ripped off. As he clasped a hand over the wound, he growled, "I'm not crazy."

"Squeak…" With a gentle nudge, the little minion lead its master back to the table and brought over some bandages.

The silence stretched in bands of syrupy awkwardness between them before Zim spoke up.

"Minimoose, am I good soldier?"

The little death machine stopped cleaning up the mess to think. Finally, it said "Squeak."

"I'd like to believe you. I truly, desperately want that to be true." He stood and walked across the room. Behind a counter were shelves full of medicines and instruments from which he took a huge bottle of pills. "But I'm not a good soldier. I wasn't even a good fry cook…"

"Squeak?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He twisted the lid off the bottle.

"Squeak!"

Zim laughed dryly. "Don't do it? Why not? They're going to kill me anyway. If I do the job first, it'll at least spoil the bastards' fun."

"Squeak…"

"I have no other choice. This is one thing I won't fuck up."

"Yessssss…" hissed the other Zim over his shoulder. "That's right…"

He glanced down at the leer staring back at him in the shiny surface of the countertop.

"What you waiting for?" the double nagged. "Do it! DO IT!"

Zim felt his hand start to shake as he lifted the bottle toward his mouth.

"That's it! Swallow them all and end it."

"NO!"

Squeaking in panic, Minimoose dodged the bottle as Zim flung it away.

"That's just what you want me to do, isn't it?" he sneered, rounding on an unseen opponent. "You want me to fall on my sword. Take the cowardly way out. Well, I'll show you. I'll show you all what Zim is made of… MINIMOOSE! What time is it?"

"Squeak?"

"The time! Tell me the time!"

Hesitating, the moose replied, "Squeak?"

"Hmm… almost time for Skool? Excellent!" Zim cackled, rubbing his hands together. "Now, go fetch me a clean uniform! I don't want to be late. Especially not today…"

A bit frazzled by its master sudden mood swing, Minimoose darted off to do as it was ordered.

When it had left, Zim turned to the doppelganger now standing cowed in a corner. "By the time I'm done, those damn dirty apes are going know first hand what hell on Earth really means…"


	3. I've Tasted Blood, And I Want More

There maybe some icky-ness due to the fact that I'm a bit frazzled with classes starting back up. So, I'm skipping the usual witty intro and giving you the fic-age. Oh, and Velchan, your refund will arrive shortly.

**Chapter 3: _I've Tasted Blood And I Want More..._**

Krung and his merry crew of juvenile delinquents were engaged in their usual morning routine of smoking out behind the Skool, discussing how best to express the impassioned depths of their teenaged angst to the cold unfeeling establishment. While they laughed cheerily about Nark's crack on spray painting Mr. Garrison neon pink, a ratty El Camino came sputtering up the bus-loading ramp. Catching sight of the tarp-covered bulge weighing down its backend, Krung smiled nicotine stained grin. They had descended upon the El Camino before the odd driver even had a chance to cut the engine.

"Well, well… If it ain't the Scrawny Green Faggot!" sneered the thug as he loomed over Zim. "What you got there, faggot?"

Zim growled and glared his good eye at the monkey, but didn't answer.

"Dude, look at this fucker's face!" one of the goons pointed. "It's all bandaged up and shit!"

"Whoa! And he's even uglier without the wig!" quipped another.

Ignoring the gawking gang, Zim slammed the door shut and started to move around to the back.

"Hey, faggot! I asked you a question!" Krung snarled, shoving him up against the car.

Zim effortlessly knocked Krung into one of the hapless vehicle of one Peabody McPoodles the aging chemistry teacher a good 30 yards away. The other thugs stared at their now unconscious leader then back to the tall but anorexically skinny freak in silent shock before lunging for Zim. It wasn't like he could take them all at once, right?

When the dust finally settled, Zim stood with his arms crossed as he appraised the damage. Those miserable punks he'd thrown through various pieces of car and pavement were absolutely pathetic! He'd seen smeets that fought harder than this trash. It made him wonder why he hadn't attempted this_ years _ago, and it was then that Zim finally understood just how woefully defenseless the other humans were without their precious Dib, even before the bastard had become their hero. Did they know that it was only because the fool boy was constantly distracting him that kept Zim from unleashing his MIGHTY WRATH upon their stinking heads? Were they too busy weeping for their fallen idol to recognize the danger or did they really give a damn about Dib? Could any these foul monkeys even appreciate the effort he'd put into devising their imminent destruction the way that bigheaded maggot child could? Would he ever again meet an adversary that'd admire the awe-inspiring GENIUS of Zim?!

"Genius?" sneered the Other. "You just came up with the plan five minutes ago!"

Zim snapped around and glared at his double as it perched on top of the tarp-covered pile. "_You…_"

"Will you get on with it? We've got things to do…" It grinned and ran a claw under its throat.

Giving his doppelganger the finger, Zim grabbed the tarp and whipped it off to expose a huge box festooned with a variety of tubes and wires. He pulled open the side and, fiddling a moment with the remote control, activated the robots. They scuttled past him in wave after shining wave ultra-tech death and headed for their destinations under Zim broadening smile.

"Ooh… Very pretty." The Other cooed, leaning over his shoulder. "But this plan's doomed to fail."

"Go away." Zim hissed quietly.

The Other warped its arm around his shoulders. "Your plans always end in failure."

"This one won't!"

"Then it's going to blow up in your face."

"I told you to go away!" he snapped, twisting around to face the Other but finding only empty air. Shrugging it off, Zim went back to watching as the last of his bombers vanished into the Skool. He let out a sigh of relief when the controller acknowledged that all the bombs where in place. Quickly disposing of the box by tossing it into a handy dumpster, he hopped back into the El Camino and drove a safe distance before setting the detonator for two minutes after the lunch bell. Then, and only then, did Zim allow himself a triumphant laugh.

"Celebrating a little early, aren't we?" the Other rasped at him from the passenger seat.

Zim ground his teeth as he pulled over and jumped out of the car. He didn't bother looking back as he stomped off down the street. For a few minutes, he basked in the wonderful buzz of the blissfully doomed city as humans brushed past too consumed with their petty lives to notice the alien brazenly walking in their midst. He was so happy that a plan was finally going smoothly that he didn't notice the crowd thinning out to the point where Zim was left utterly alone down a dead-end alley.

"Eh?" He blinked dumbly at the grimy wall before him.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock grimly toiled noon.

Zim was about to back out of there when the silence was rented by a chain of massive explosions.

"Ah," he purred, savoring the distant FWOOMP!'s. "The sweet sound of victory."

He turned to leave but ended up slamming into the Other. Jumping back, Zim rankled in anger then relaxed into a smug grin.

"Did you hear that? My plan's a success! A magnificent SUCCESS!!!!" he screamed, pumping his fists in the air.

The Other merely chuckled.

Stifling his growing uneasiness, Zim turned his 'nose' up at his wretched double and marched out of the alley. Now that he'd dealt with those filthy classmates and skool, he was free to pack up some nasty weapons into the Voot and go give the Tallests a piece of his mind.

"Hi ya', buddy!" Keef chirped as he popped up from out of nowhere, dashing the beautiful images of gore spattered vengeance which were dancing in Zim's head.

"Keef! What are you doing here?!" came the shriek. "Why aren't you at Skool?!"

The boy blinked at him in sad confusion. "Haven't you heard? Dib's been hospitalized and they gave us the day off to mourn."

Zim's face went pale. "What?"

"Oh my gosh, Zim! What happened to you?!" Keef gasped, reaching toward Zim's face.

"Nothing…" mumbled the alien as he absent-mindedly batted the boy's hand away. For a moment, all he did was stare just past Keef's left ear at the Other laughing.

"It all makes sense now…" Keef murmured, taking a step back. "That's why you've been acting so strangely… I—I didn't know. I'm so sorry!!! You must be miserable!"

"Eh?" he muttered, not quite focused on that point just beyond Keef's ear now.

"That's where you've been, isn't it?! Standing vigil at outside Membrane labs loyally, no matter how dark the night became! Sitting out there all night in the cold, wondering if he'll make it…" rambled the boy angstily. "Knowing all the while that horrible, horrible **_girl_** had been trying to bend our Dib to her evil wishes!"

Zim blinked and looked straight at Keef. "Membrane labs?"

"Of course!" Keef barked, pointing to the gleaming building overshadowing them. "That's where they took Dib after they found him. He's somewhere in the former Pig Girl wing."

"Dib…" came the hiss as Zim's expression darkened.

"Uh… you okay, Zim?"

Roaring in rage, Zim knocked the boy aside as he deployed his spider legs and raced toward the lab. The guards scattered when he barreled through the front gate. He was half-way up the side of the building before the security system kicked in, laying down a vicious burst of laser fire which Zim deftly dodged as he jumped into an open duct.

Slipping effortlessly past the fire-blasting buzzsaw traps, he crawled along the duct and in an unusual stroke of luck, it just happened to lead straight to the room with Dib. In an even more unusual turn, the only nurse on duty just happened to have eaten at Super Bad Burger the night before and was bolting for the nearest bathroom right at the moment Zim dropped into the room. And in a coincidence only to be labeled 'insanely miraculous', somebody had forgotten to hook up the surveillance cameras.

Oblivious now to the world outside his massive head, Dib seemed oddly peaceful despite the bandages. He looked tiny against the stark white of the bed, a harmless little bundle of human flesh tethered to the life-giving machines by tubes and wires. So very weak…and yet still as much a dangerous as he was when conscious.

"How do you do it?" Zim rasped, stepping up to the bed. "Tell me how you do it, Dib? You're as good as dead and yet you've still managed to ruin my plans with the merest mention of your name! You could be rotting in the stinking dirt full of maggots, only a faint memory in the minds of your people, and you'll still be haunting me, won't you?!

The machine hum swelled as the alien leaned closer to his silent enemy, punctuated by the low beat of an electrocardiogram.

"I know you can hear me. I think that wherever you're hiding in that freakishly huge skull of yours, you're laughing at me. Because you think that I can't reach you. You think the worse is over now, don't you? But you're wrong, Dib."

Tearing away the sheet, Zim clambered onto the bed and roughly straddled Dib's waist. He grinned with quiet malice, running his hands over the slowly rising chest till his gloved claws rested lightly against the bared neck.

"Do you feel my hands around your throat?" he hissed, lazily tightening his grip. "Do you realize it would be so easy for me to end your life with a simple _squeeze_…"

The EKG beat increased by panicked blips while Dib gasped numbly for air.

"Afraid? You should be…" Zim let go and watched the skin redden where his fingers had been. "But I'm not going to kill you. Not like this." Laying down on top of him, Zim lazily slide a hand through Dib's hair. "Now, don't get the wrong idea, worm-boy. I'm not letting you live because I like you. In fact, I **_hate_** you. I **_hate _** you with every single cell in my body. I **_hate _** you so much that I didn't kill you last night was because I want you to know, firsthand, how deep my **_hatred_** is for you. And I want everyone to see my **_hate_** carved into your flesh…"

With a jerk of his hand, Zim tore the bandages off Dib's face to exposing an eyeless patch of face mirroring his own. A pleasantly warm thrill welled up from his belly, causing Zim to groan. He almost lovingly stroked the stitched up gashes, listening to the steady wheeze of breath that fluttered against his mouth. Moving down to Dib's neck, he nuzzled the spot where the neck and shoulder. Zim pressed his mouth against it and bite down hard enough to break the skin, causing the body underneath him to tense and push forward. A red sheen clung on his smile as Zim pulled away and climbed out of the bed.

"Pleasant dreams, _Dib…_"

(a/n: Edit- Keef's name fixed. Thanks for pointing it out, pinky.)


	4. My Best Friend?

Ladies, ladies, ladies! Jay and Silent Bob are in the HIIZ-OUSE!!1 Okay, so it's just me. If you gave me a trench coat and baseball hat, though, I could pull off a shaved Kevin Smith… Sorry for the slow update, but some bunnies had to be purged. Now quake with fear as I unleash more Keef upon you! Because, pinky, there are fates worse than death….

**Chapter 4:** **_ My Best Friend?_**

Hopping down from the llama, Zim swiped a hand across he brow as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Whew! Who'd have thought I'd end up in such an AMAZINGLY ACTION-PACKED BATTLE! Why, I don't believe I've ever seen marmosets that size even after my own research on the giantification of tiny mammals." Turning to the llama, he nods imperiously. "Many thanks, Llama. Without your herds assistance, I would've been dead. In gratitude, once I've conquered this planet, I shall ensure that all Llama kind will be spared the razing of conquest. Now, be gone with you!"

Baying its gratitude, the llama leaps into the air before exploding in a shower of glitter.

"Well, since that's over with… Time to enact my VENGEANCE on the Tallest."

With that, Zim marches up to his front door and pushes on it only to discover that it's locked.

"Eh?! Dammit! SKOODGE!" he hisses, pounding on the door. "Open up and let me in, you waste of lard! It's me, ZIM! You're COMMANDER! Open up before I break this door down and tear off your—"

Without warning, the house gnomes activated and chucked him out into the street.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Leaping to his feet, Zim rushed toward the yard but is soon driven back by a wild barrage of laser fire. He retreats to a safe distance and, seething, cuts on his com-link to give Skoodge a serious dressing down.

"Out of range. Try Again Later" buzzes the computer announcer over the Irken Corporate Logo.

"What the—? 'Out of range'?! How can he possibly be out of range?! Skoodge never leaves the base!" Zim growls, tearing at his antennae. "And the only way the house security would cut on is if an intruder tries to compromise the base! Unless…"

The color drains from his face, leaving him a sickly greenish hue as he sinks his knees on the grimy asphalt. For a moment, silence reigns but is quickly shattered by a hard-thumping hip-hop beat. Zim looked up and saw the Other leering down at him, dressed up like a cheap Eminem clone.

"Guess who's back, bitch!" jeers the doppelganger while an ominous black smoke spirals up from the ground. "Direct from yo' worse nightmares, straight outta' the pit itself… put you hands up for the Gangsta himself… I present-in all his pimpin' specter-y-ness- the one, the only… POOP DAWG!!!"

"WHAT'S UP, MUTHAFUCKA!" the Specter of Defeat howls as he bursts into view. "Poop Dawg's back to pimp-slap ya' punk ass with an ice cold dose of reality."

Zim gape numbly at the specter for a moment, then leaps to his feet in a rage. "Why are you here, dog-man?! I have not been defeated!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Zim, ya failed to annihilate yo' Skool mates, you done been locked out yo' base, and you didn't put a cap in Dib's giant head… I'd say yo' is down with the muthafuckin' defeat."

"I… I can explain! I wasn't my fault!" gasped the alien.

"Who ya tryin' to fool, fool? Everything's your fault!"

"LIES!!!!!!!! Nothing is ZIM'S fault!"

"Bitch please. Yo' think ya all that? Yo' think yo' Mister Badass, doncha'? Well, you ain't nuthin', shithead! You ain't nothing!"

"DAMN YOUR LYING FEET!" Zim screamed, jabbing his finger into the specter's robes.

"That… that didn't even make sense, Zim" grumps Poop Dawg, dropping the rapper shtick.

The change causes Zim to cock an eyebrow. "Wait a minute… You sound just like—" Lunging forward, Zim grabbed the specter's cowl and ripped it away to reveal…

"**_DIB?!?!?!?!_**"

Poop Dawg/Dib laughs and pulls a pistol from its robes. "Boo."

Before the alien can get over his shock, he's shoot in the gut and collapses onto the unyielding asphalt.

**- - - - **

In painful little bursts, feeling oozed back into Zim's body and he pried his eyelids open to glance around.

"What the…? This isn't my base!"

For it certainly was not Zim's base. After all, no Irken in the universe would live in a place that was wall to wall _preciousness_. Cavorting kitties and puppies dominated the posters on the peaches-n-cream stripped wallpaper. There were frilliness and fluff _everywhere,_ from the cotton-candy pink rug to the frou-frou lampshades to the omnipresent dollies to the masses of rose-related items strewn about the room. Even the couch Zim was sitting on had been transformed from a mere seat to a massive idol to overstuffed _cuteness_.

Zim leapt off the accursed thing in sheer horror. Then, in the overly gilded mirror, he saw something that made him unleash a terrified scream.

"Morning, buddy."

Whipping around, Zim found himself face to pompadour with Keef.

"How did I get here?! What is this… this… HORRIBLE place?!"

"You're at my house, Zim." Keef seemed oblivious the alien's disgusted looks as he held out a soda. "Thirsty?"

Slapping away the beverage, he grabbed Keef's head and hauled the human off the ground. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY UNIFORM?!!" he screamed, gesturing to the violently orange sweatshirt, acid-washed jeans, and Reeboks with pink laces.

"It had hobo puke all over it, so I put it in the washer. I hope you don't mind wearing my mom's old things."

"Hobo puke?" Zim hissed skeptically. "How could I have been covered by Hobo puke?!"

"While you were in jail, silly!" The boy sighed. "That's where you were a few days ago for disturbing the peace. The police shot you with a tranquilizer dart because you were acting CRAZY! But it's okay now. I posted bail and paid your fines, so they released you into my custody."

"Bail? Fines?" he muttered. "Are you saying is that I was captured by the Earthen authorities for CRAZINESS but you paid monies to them and these police humans gave me to you. Is that what you're saying?"

Keef's brow furrowed a moment, but soon he was smiling again. "Yah, I guess."

"So you bought me from those humans?"

"Yep, buddy. I sure did."

For a moment, the alien did nothing else but glare at Keef. On top of everything else that had happened to him that day, this was the final straw. Zim let Keef drop to the floor as he sank back onto the frou-frou couch and brooded.

"You okay, Zim?"

"I'm pretty fucking far from okay," he hissed without looking at the boy.

Keef frowned and, sitting down next to Zim, put a comforting arm around him. "I understand that you're upset about Dib. I know I cried the whole night when I heard he was in a coma. But don't you worry, Zim. Our Dib's gonna pull through and then we'll all be together again! Footy pajamas, great big hugs… the works! Just like old times!"

Zim stared coldly at him, then went back to his brooding.

Lips pursed in deep concern for his friend, Keef strained to think of a way to shake Zim out of his despair. He glanced down at the dollie-coated coffee table and saw a sales circular laying on it. Suddenly, optimistic inspiration struck.

"I know something that'll cheer you up!" Jumping to his feet, Keef snagged a gold 'Member's Only' jacket and tossed it at Zim. "Come on, buddy! We're going to the mall!"

Numbly, Zim tugs the jacket on and follows Keef out the door, consoling himself that his life couldn't possibly get any worse…

** Musical Interlude Time!!!******

A happy synthesizer piano began playing in the background as Keef and Zim walk into the glaring light of the MALL.

((Ooo, you make me live…))

Zim cringes in shame and terror at the people turning to stare at them, but Keef doesn't notice as he skips down the corridors firmly clinging to Zim's gloved hand.

((Whatever this world can give to me,))  
((It's you, you're all I see…))

Keef, wearing his permagrin, drags his companion into Mister Fluff's Clothing Emporium of Rainbow Love. He merrily begins digging through the racks of hideously effeminate boy's wear and hands his finds over for Zim to try on.

Squeeing in joy as Zim angrily models each new "outfit", Keef takes the whole clothes pile up the register and buys them. He hands the bags to Zim before hooking their arms together and prancing out of the store.

((You're the best friend that I ever had))  
((I've been with you such a long time…))

Leading the way, their next stop is the Really-Really-Big Toy Store.

As Keef bounds off, Zim wanders down the 'boy's' aisle. Looking hopeful, he searched through the pathetic ray-pistol sets and laser games but finds nothing more than miserable reproductions that flicker and buzz weakly when he fires them at Keef.

((You're my sunshine ))  
((And I want you to know that my feelings are true…))

Zim curses his ill-fortune, then he spies a display of Red Rider BB-Guns. Smiling, he heads toward it only to have his path blocked by an ENORMOUS red bear with a pink satin heart belly. He jumps back, ready to smite the Red Demon Bear with a rubber chicken when Keef pokes his head around the side.

((I really love you!)) He mouths, pointing to the bear.

A humiliated blush covers Zim's face while the kids behind him snicker. Turning on his heels, he marches quickly out of the store.

((Ooo, you make me live…))  
((I've been wandering round…))

In a snit, Zim drifts through the crowds of mall-rats and dumpy old people. He stomps past the metal-inspired entrance to the GOTHIEST store ever, which is conveniently having a Fall close-out sale.

Glancing down at the Reeboks and the Mister Fluff's swag, Zim immediately stuff the bags into a handy trashcan and enters Hot Top—Eh, the GOTH store.

((But I still came back to you.))

Zim reemerges from the GOTH store with a wardrobe more to his liking. True, it wasn't Irken regulation, but somehow the p-leather pants, combat boots, and a "Misfits" shirt (and an eye-patch, too!) made him feel much better. It was just a coincidence that he also picked up the same style trench coat Dib always wore…

((I'm happy, happy at home …))

Strutting through the mall with his purchases slung over his shoulder, Zim hums a happy tune to himself thing that he is now free from Keef forever. But, as he rounds a corner, the ever cheerful boy springs an ambush hug on him.

((You're my best friend!))

Keef is too happy to care that Zim's gone Goth-Punk on him and pulls the protesting alien into a photo booth.

((Whenever this world is cruel to me…))  
((I got you to help me forgive… ))

The photo strip that pops out reveals the struggling Zim put up in his attempts to escape from Keef, from trying to dive out of the booth to attempting to throttle his captor to various shots of him screaming. It ends with Keef wrapping him up in a SUPER hug.

((You're the first one when things turn out bad…))

After the terrors of the photo booth, Zim resigns himself to being dragged around by Keef and doesn't bother running off when the boy leaves him seating at a table in the food court. He does grimace at the tray of food Keef brings to him, knowing that no good is going to come from it. Especially not the single milkshake with two straws…

((You know I'll never be lonely…))  
((You're my only one…))

Grinning like a lunatic, Keef offers Zim a forkful of what plausibly could've been Moo-Guh-Gai-Pan at one point in its existence.

Zim looks back and forth between the congealing noodles and that grin. Finally, he accepts the 'food' and pulls off the most impressive expression of disgust before he falls over gagging.

((And I love the things…))  
((I really love the things that you do!))

Keef immediately rushes to Zim's side as the alien faints from oxygen deprivation. Thinking fast, the boy starts giving him CPR. Zim comes to just in time to find Keef performing mouth-to-mouth on him.

Scuttling back, Zim spits and hisses angrily but Keef just smiles in relief before jerking him into yet another bear hug.

Not wanting any more to do with the infernalness of the Mall, Zim grabs hold of Keef and marches out of the mall. For a brief moment, they're shillouetted holding hands in the glowing sunset.

((You, you're my best friend…))

** End The Fucking Music **

Meanwhile,  
Deep within the Membranes' house…

Stepping back from the table, Gaz looked over her handiwork. A dark smile of satisfaction slithered over her lips as she took in the absolute perfection of its duplicity. Now, all she needed to finish it was some power. She moved away from her creation, carefully slipping in between the networked spelldrives encircling the table.

Gaz was still a bit impressed with the sheer amount of information out there about Dib's stupid magical toys, from the autobiography/suicide note of the crazy witch who had invented the spelldrive down to the various knock-off models available. But she was really pleased when she found the blue-prints for a homemade mystical recharging system, which Gaz had pretty much completed last night. There was only one part missing. One tiny and extremely important part: a Ley Line Convertor.

Clicking Dib's laptop on, she pulled up the Swollen Eyeball site and messaged Agent Tuna Ghost.

"Found anything yet?" she rasped.

"Uh… Yes. And no."

Her eye half opened. "Yes and no?"

Agent Tuna Ghost coughed nervously. "Well, I have found you a Ley Line Convertor, but there's a small problem."

"Problem?" There was a lethal combination of sleeplessness and malice in Gaz's tone.

"Yes. You see, Agent Piggy Hunter, the part kinda belongs to…eh, somebody…"

"So what? I just need it for a few days and then I can give the dumb thing back."

"It's not that simple…" Tuna Ghost muttered. "First, there's a high probability that the Convertor will be destroyed during the recharging process since you'll be pumping well over forty-two thousand magic points through it per second …"

"Then I'll buy it." Gaz snapped.

"I don't think your getting it. The Ley Line Convertor belongs to El Santanico, the Vampire Lord of Northern Mexico. And I seriously doubt she's going to part with it peacefully…"

"Then how about a trade?"

Agent Tuna Ghost balked at the suggestion. "Agent Piggy Hunter! It's against our ethical policies to even consider making deals with such fiendish and vile supernatural creatures as El Santanico! Besides," she quipped sourly. "Where are you going to find a virgin nowadays?"

The dark smile appeared again. "Oh, you'd be amazed. Bye, Tuna Ghost…"

Before Agent Tuna Ghost could protest, Gaz had cut the laptop off and shoved it into a duffel bag. Soon, she emerged from the lab into the murky living room where G.I.R. was absorbed in watching Reality TV.

"Let's go, G.I.R.," she barked, snatching up the keys to Dib's Jaguar.

"Go? Go where?"

"To Mexico." Seeing that the loony 'bot wasn't catching on, she added, "It's the Land of Tacos, G.I.R. A land of many, many tacos indeed."

"HALLELUJAH! PARADISE, HERE I COME!" screamed G.I.R. as it barreled out the door and into the car.

Gaz growled wearily and picked up a notepad to scribble down a brief note for her father. It wasn't likely that he'd even notice it, but leaving a note was exactly the sort of asinine thing Dib would do. Stabbing the note to door with the pen, she climbed into Dib's Jag and drove off into the night.

"Dad, Gone to Mexico to hunt vampires. Back whenever. – Gaz."

The white scrape of paper fluttered dully in the breeze.

 OMG! My step-mother strikes again!

 Lyrics are to _"You're My Best Friend" _by Queen. Because I'm evil like that.


	5. On A Mexican Radio

Thanks to minds more observant than mine, a small error has been corrected. Songs being exploited for cheap pathos this chapter are _"I'm Afraid of Americans"_ by David Bowie and _"Don't Stop Me"_ by Queen. Hooray for cameos!

**Chapter 5:_ Heard It On a Mexican Radio_**

"…so, that song about the space man is about a _girl_?" squeaked G.I.R., overfilling his Suck-Monkey.

"No. It's about a heroine _addiction_." Gaz grumbled while she sorts through the shelves of chemically processed snacks. "See, when Major Tom's talking about being stuck orbiting Earth in a 'tin can', what it really does is describe the disassociated feeling you get during a heroine high. Bowie is using a stranded astronaut as a metaphor for what it's like to completely spaced out on drugs. And 'Ashes to Ashes' is about his attempt at recovery and the failure."

"Wow. You is so smart! Like a mongoose!" The robot grinned, oblivious to the glop oozing over its dog suit.

It was times like this that made Gaz wonder why she had decided to bring the crazy rust-bucket along. It was a nuisance to her with its constant _talking_ and smiling, always whining for more food-like it needed to eat- or starting that oh so adorable children's game of asking "Are we there yet?" every twenty seconds. And if that wasn't enough, then there was all the trouble G.I.R. caused…

After that fiasco with the chicken truck in Houston and the high-speed escape from that group of hippies for Satan, Gaz was amazed that she hadn't smashed the robot apart. She'd wanted to so badly, especially since G.I.R.'s misadventures had cost her about a week's worth of valuable time and gas. But then again, Gaz rarely had the chance to eviscerate people with a spork, so maybe those side trips weren't totally losses.

_((Nobody needs anyone… They don't even just pretend…))_

G.I.R., satisfied it now had the maximum amount of Suck-Monkey glop possible, pranced over to her side and grinned dumbly at her as it waved the cup around.

Rolling her eyes, Gaz snagged a bag of Bloaty's Pizza Bites and stood in line behind a tall guy in black getting coffee.

As the clerk handed over the flimsy cup, he asks, "You got any sugar or creamers back there?"

"Sugar? Creamers!" rumbled the clerk between smacks on a wad of Skoal. "We ain't got none that pansy shit here, city boy. This ain't one them there artsy-fartsy coffee shops. Drink is black like a REAL MAN, you pussy."

_((Johnny's in America…))_

The guy whipped a giant knife and stabs the clerk's face into a gory pulp. "That man enough for you, shithead!"

Gaz turned to G.I.R. "I guess we don't have to pay for the gas now."

Suddenly, the guy twists around to flash a blood-spattered grin at them as he readied his knife.

_((I'm afraid I can't help it…))_

He lunged for Gaz, but to both their surprises, the dog-suited robot shoves her out of the way and ends up getting the knife lodged in its head.

While the maniac curses and tried to get his knife unstuck, Gaz ducked behind the Suck Monkey machine and pulled out her baseball bat.

_((Johnny wants that woman… Johnny wants to slash her throat…))_

"Look, let's make this easy," he rasps, searching through the aisles. "How about you just come on out and die?"

She listened the boots squishing through spilt slushy glop as the maniac drew closer, holding her bat out as though it were a samurai's katana.

"Fuck you." Gaz snaps, cracking him upside the head when he stepped into view.

_((Johnny looks up at the stars…))_

With the maniac sprawled face up in a gooey mess of artificially-flavored slush, Gaz warily edges toward the door. When she reached it, she glanced back just in time to block a downward blow. Frantically, she parries and dodges the maniac's wild swings across the sludge covered floor.

When they finally break apart, the maniac is standing between Gaz and the door. She took a step back, her foot crunching down on the Suck Monkey lip. With uncanny slowness, she reaches down with one hand and scoops up G.I.R.'s motionless body.

The only sound is the lub-dub of a beating heart.

_((God is an American…))_

Shifting her weight, Gaz crouched down low and held the bat at the ready.

The maniac aped her stance, stretching his knife out toward her like a gleaming horn.

_((Yeah, I'm afraid of Americans! I'm afraid of the words!))_

With a frightening burst of speed, they both sprang toward each other but right before they collided into another furious battle, Gaz slides right between the maniac's legs and batters down the door. She flees across the dusty blacktop toward the Jag, thankful that G.I.R.'s whining had made her put the top down. It wasn't fear that made her rush, but the overwhelming need to get that part and get back before Zim could escape her wrath.

The maniac was rushed the car, his gaunt face contorted in a look of pissed off annoyance.

_((I'm afraid I can't…))_

Tossing the robot into the passenger seat, Gaz hurtled over the door and landed behind the wheel. But when she reached into her pocket for the keys, they slid out of her fumbling fingers and down between the seats.

"God dammit!" she growled, leaning over to fish them back out as the maniac closed the distance between them.

Right when he was about the slam the knife straight through Gaz's unprotected kidney's, G.I.R. sat back and pulled down the hood of its doggie suit. Eyes shining red, it deployed its arsenal of missiles and blasted away.

_((I'm afraid of Americans…))_

Keys in hand, a slightly singed Gaz quickly revved the engine and hauled ass out of there mere seconds before the gas tanks erupt in a fiery explosion. As they drive away from the miniature mushroom cloud, she half-turns to the robot who's once again gone back to grinning stupidly.

"Are you okay?" she asks, sounding mildly concerned.

"No!" G.I.R. whined. "That bad man made me spill my Suck Monkey! And look at what he did to Piggy!"

Gaz pushed the rubber piggy away when G.I.R. shoved it in her face to show her where the knife had nicked it's little piggy ear.

"What the fuck! Are you trying to make me wreck?" she snarls, then softens a bit at the hurt puppy-eyes. "Look, I…I'll fix up your piggy when we get back home, okay?" When she hears G.I.R.'s please little hum, Gaz huffs in relief.

It felt good to be rid of that troublesome, knife-wielding dumbass.

_((Johnny's an American…))_

Raising up from the backseat, the maniac puts Gaz in a stranglehold.

While she struggled to free herself, the car swerved dangerously all over the road before it went off the pavement completely and went careening out of control through the desert scrub. After a suspension destroying rampage across the border, the Jag finally slams head-on into a stand of cacti.

G.I.R. launches itself at the maniac, forcing him to release Gaz and they all go tumbling out as the Jag flips onto its side.

Bruised and scratched, Gaz snarls and rounds on the maniac. "God! What's your damage, jerkwad!"

"I don't like loose-ends." Muttered the maniac, pulling the knife out. "Now, I'm kind of on a tight schedule, so if you don't mind not making me chasing you into a dead-end and skipping to the bit where I tear your intestines out, I'd greatly appreciate it."

"No."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'no'." Gaz repeated, crossing her arms. "As in 'no, I won't run' and 'no, you aren't tearing my intestines out'…"

"Listen, girly," the maniac snapped. "I have places to go and people to kill…"

"Ditto," she growled back. "What? You didn't think you're the only person around here who's homicidal, did you dumbass?"

"Actually, yes. Yes I did."

Gaz giggled. "Silly rabbit…Tricks are for—"

"—kids." The maniac finished with a groan. "God! If I wasn't in such a hurry, I'd make you suffer for using that lame ass Tarantino quote. And you screwed it up, too!"

"Well, excuse the fuck out of me, Mister Moviefone," she huffed. "I can't help it if I'm in a Kill Bill mood right now."

"Then why not try using a better revenge flick, like Cape Fear, or Sleepers. Hell! If you must use Tarantino, then pick one of his good movies, like Reservoir Dogs! Now there's some great dialogue."

"Very well, then. How about a bit of Hannibal?" Gaz brushed past him and, pulling the duffel bag out of the wreckage, cooed, "See ya' around."

It took a knife suddenly getting buried mere inches from her head to make Gaz pause.

"Okay, nut-job," she hissed. "I have a little prepared speech I tell my stalker when he wants more than I'd like to give him. Gee, blank, I had a really nice..."

He snickered. "Now you're ripping off Heathers? Damn, that's old school."

"Thank you. But, sadly, as much as I'd love to spend the rest of the evening arguing about movie quotes, I have to get to the Pueblo de Los Lobos before moon-rise tonight…"

"Did you say Pueblo de Los Lobos? Well, isn't that convenient! That's just where I'm headed."

"Oh goodie-goodie." Gaz sneered. "Shame you totaled the car, otherwise I'd offer to give you a lift."

"That's okay," came the reply as he followed her and G.I.R. back to the highway. "I probably would've just killed you and taken your car anyway."

"That wasn't my car. It was my brother's."

"Bet he's going to be pissed when he finds out."

"Not really. He's a little dead at the moment."

The maniac gave her a funny look but decided not to pry. After several hours of walking in silence, he spoke up.

"Johnny."

"Eh?"

"We didn't introduce ourselves," he muttered. "I'm Johnny, but call me Nny. And you?"

"Gaz." She gestured to the robot-dog perching parrot-like on her shoulder. "And this is G.I.R."

Clutching its piggy, G.I.R. gives him a dirty look.

"Uh…yah."

Another hour of quiet. Then it's Gaz turn to break the ice.

"Why, Nny?"

"Why kill the cashier?"

"No. That I can understand. I meant why go to Los Lobos?"

Johnny shook his head. "It's…complicated. Let's just say that I'm looking for a…eh, _friend_."

"Right…" she answers, half-opening an eye.

"Dammit!" Johnny snaps. "I'm fucking sick of you bastards thinking that! I have—uh, _had_ a girlfriend, sort of… Okay, so maybe I did try to kill her, but that doesn't mean I'm not heterosexual! Shit. Did I just use a double negative?"

"Yep."

Yet more quiet appears, this time lasting for a good ninety minutes.

"So, why are you going?"

Gaz shrugged. "Like you said: It's complicated. I'll save you a really dumb story by saying that there's something I need in Los Lobos."

"Gotcha."

Before the next stretch of silence can fall, a coupe full of drunken frat boys slows down as it pulls up alongside them.

"HEY, VAMPIRELLA!" shouts Frat Brother 1. "HOW 'BOUT YOU DITCH THE DOUCHE-BUCKET AND PARTY WITH SOME REAL MEN!"

Gaz and Johnny pause, glancing at each other as they both came to the same conclusion.

_- Three hours later…_

"…so excessive…" Johnny groused as they turned off the highway onto a deserted gravel road.

"Admit it." Gaz muttered, rifling through the shitty CDs for something listenable. "You laughed when that one guy's stomach exploded."

"Heh-heh. Yah, that was kind of funny."

Chucking the pop-laden garbage out the window, she looks up right as they come upon the outskirts of a ramshackle Mexican village. "Hey, Nny," she rasps. "I think we're here."

'Recepción a El Pueblo de Los Lobos. Población: 147, 83, 19, 3 0' reads the sunbaked sign. Beneath that but just above a dead-drunk man, was scrawled in a reddish brown smudge, "¡Huya¡Para el amor del dios¡HUYA!"

Night's came fast in rips of bloodied navy, making the seemingly deserted village's decorations for El Día de los Muertos into a surreal drive underneath vividly colored lights, lacy paper banners, and uncannily realistic skeletons dressed up in finery. The only place that seems alive is the trashy, neon festooned bar. Avoiding the bikers swarming around out front, Johnny stealthily pulls the coupe behind the burnt out ruins of the church right next-door to the bar.

"I'd say that's about thirty." Gaz mused as they watch the bikers disappear into the bar.

"Thirty-eight, to be exact."

"Probably triple that inside."

"Yep."

Gaz sighed. "I should've brought another shotgun."

"Shotgun!" Johnny asks, gaping at her. "Are you telling me you had a gun this whole time!"

"Actually, I have a sawed-off 12g, three American 180's, and a Casull . 454 revolver, plus twelve different lengths of knives, some hatchets, three gallons of holy water, a cross-bow, and some silver-capped ash stakes. And my baseball bat, of course."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Buffy Summers?"

"Buffy? Feh!" she scoffed, climbing out of the car. "I liked Anya better."

When they were finished dividing up the weaponry and had stashed it handily but secretly about themselves, Gaz leaned into the backseat. "Now, G.I.R., this is going to get messy so I want you to stay and guard the car."

"But I wanna go too, sir!" it wailed. "I promised Master that I'd make sure you're okay! Besides, Johnny's a **_bad man_**…"

"That's an understatement…" Gaz grumbled. "Look G.I.R. It would make me happy if you stayed in the car. You do want me to be happy, don't you G.I.R.?"

"I guess so…"

"Alright then." She stepped away, adding over her shoulder, "If I'm not back by dawn, I want you to self-destruct."

At the mention of exploding, the robot cried out happily.

She grinned. "That's my 'bot."

Johnny glared at her as they walked across the now empty street. "A bad man?"

She shrugged. "Well, you did stab its piggy."

"Good point."

Stepping through the threshold, they both wince at the reeking blast of rancid beer, cheap cigars, and something quite rotten assailing their nostrils. At least the music blaring from the grimy jukebox was decent.

The gathered freaks and monsters turn in unison, staring with malignant silence a moment before they're satisfied that the newcomers are two of their own. Edgy, the pair goes up the bar.

"Excuse me." Johnny murmured when he saw a freakishly happy young man in back drop a bound-n-gagged boy into the midst of a Grand Guignol style poker game.

Gaz watches indifferently as he settles down beside the man and cheerfully starts chatting with him. Snorting, she looks away and sights her own quarry laughing in the midst of her simpering courtiers. With a smirk of death on her lips, Gaz wanders lazily over to El Santanico.

((Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time…))

"The gringo is complete without decency…" chuckled the Vampire Lord as she looks at the now sweating but still smiling poker player. "He was a rapist and a serial killer in life, so fascinated by mindless death that he even tracked down a lunatic who massacred an entire fast-food restaurant because of some moron called him 'wacky'. You know, the one serving Moose…" She sighed. "It is truly a shame that we couldn't have gotten that one instead, but I suppose Jimmy will do…"

"Buena tarde, señora," she interrupts, pushing aside a poser vampire to set across from the Vampire Lord.

"You look familiar. Have I bitten you before?" came the snark.

"No. No you haven't," Gaz replied, readying herself for the opportune moment to strike.

"…you had no fucking right!" Johnny's screamed in the background, then he began babbling about not mutilating a kid's dad.

"Lovely necklace. What sort of stone is that? A Yuggoth blood-ruby, perhaps?

"Who the hell _are_ you?" El Santanico snarled, her guards closing rank.

"A woman on a mission..."

Before El Santanico or her minions could react, a sanity rending scream tore through the bar that was quickly followed by tentacles bursting forth from the floor.

_((…and the world turning inside out…))_

"Shit." As the gathered monstrosities scattered, Gaz dodged her way through the writhing tentacles in pursuit of the Vampire Lord.

_((Like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity…))_

"Kill the bitch," El Santanico hissed loudly, smirking down from the safety of the stripper's catwalk.

Shifting into feral state, the nearest two vampires launched themselves at Gaz. They both looked rather surprised when she fell them with clip's worth of exploding silver-nitrate. The next couple of unholy thugs closed in when she tossed the pistol only to discover that silver-plated hatchets are not something you want lodged in your skull.

_((Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time…))_

Gaz busily tore another minion, too intent on reaching El Santanico to see the flailing tentacle come whipping toward her. She went flying across the barroom, smashing into the giant mirror behind the bar and tumbling down behind it in a bloody heap.

_((…ready to reload…like an atom bomb about to…))_

Cackling at their good fortune, the minions surged forward to finish her off. The first one over the bar exploded in a mass of viscera after catching two barrels full in the midsection.

Gaz jumped up on the bar, revolver in one hand and shotgun in the other, to deal with the rest. Blasting away, she made short work of the last minions

_((I'm burning through the sky…))_

The shelves of alcohol-laden bottles behind Gaz soon erupted from Johnny's wild machine-gunning, adding a blazing wall of flames to the rest of the chaos. Unfazed by the "friendly" fire, she vaulted through the thrashing tentacle mayhem toward the Vampire Lord.

_((I wanna make a supersonic woman of you!))_

Leaping the stage, Gaz leveled the revolver at El Santanico only to have it knocked out of her hand. She hurriedly blocked the next claw swipe with the shotgun, having it severed neatly in half. Dropping the pieces, she switches to the knives stashed in her sleeves and meets the vampire head-on in a vicious knife/claw fight.

_((Have a good time… A good time…))_

With her rage fueled slashing, Gaz drives her opponent backwards until she has El Santanico pinned to the wall with a blade through the belly. She rears back to deliver the coup de grace by decapitating the vampire.

"NO! YOU STUPID BITCH!" came the garbled scream as the happy freak wrapped his tentacles around Gaz, slamming her first into the ceiling and then the floor. Then Jimmy the Would-be Lovecraftian Horror oozed toward Gaz, fates worse than death smirking from the mouths of his slimy new appendages. To his utter amazement, a series of gunshots soon rendered Jimmy both headless and lifeless.

"…squee…"

Gaz turned and saw the boy, now untied and ungagged, holding the revolver in both shaking hands while he pulled at the trigger even though he'd spent every cartridge in the gun. She takes a step toward him.

_((…yes, I'm having a good time…))_

"—KAR-SNAK!"

El Satanico's head comes spinning across the floor, hitting Gaz's boot in an explosion of rotted dust.

"You okay, Squee?" comes the rasp.

Glancing over her shoulder, Gaz sees Johnny standing over the heap that once was the Vampire Lord of Northern Mexico. The blood-ruby glints forgotten in his hand.

"Squee?"

Gaz seizes the boy and pushes the knife against his throat as she rounds on Johnny. "Give me it."

He stares dumbly at her. "Give you what?"

"The stone! Give me the stone, or else…" Casually, she increases her pressure just enough to nick Squee.

"Fuck no!" Johnny shouts, waving a foot-long butcher's knife at her as he catches on. "Let Squee go!"

"Toss me the stone first. Then you can have the kid."

Johnny clenched the stone tighter in his hand. "You'd kill both of us if I do that!"

"And you'd kill me if I let him go." she answered, hugging Squee closer.

"I _promise_ not to…"

"You know I can't believe that, Johnny."

The seconds crept tensely by while the murderous pair stared each other down. A beam gave way and crashed nearby them as the fire surged wildly out of control.

"This place is about to go…" Johnny muttered in a mild growl.

"Okay then," sneered Gaz above the crackle of bodies going up like matchsticks. "Let's do this: You throw me the stone and I'll throw you the kid at the same time. Then we run for it. Deal?"

"Deal."

Gaz lobbed the shell-shocked Squee at Johnny the exact moment he hurled the blood-ruby toward her. Both caught their respective treasures and bolted out of the collapsing bar.

When they had reached the safety of the ruined church, Johnny turned to Gaz.

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but if I ever, ever, ever see your face again, I'll crave out that blacken lump of flesh you call a heart. Bye-bye." On that, he snapped back around and carried Squee to an abandoned station wagon nearby.

"Later, loser." Gaz snarled, watching as Johnny drove away.

Exhausted and stinky, she walked back to the coupe where G.I.R. was laying sprawled out in the back seat.

"GAZ!" cried the robot happily, popping out the window to bear-hug her.

Prying it off, Gaz climbed in behind the wheel and sat G.I.R. in the passenger seat. "Let's go home."

"Ah…but I never got any tacos."

She frowned. "Fine. We'll get some tacos, then go home."

"HURRAY! TACOS!"

With that, they drove off into the rosy hued sunrise.

-

(a/n: Forgive me if Nny came out OOC. All the JtHM I know comes from plot summaries and a few scanned pages.)


	6. Teenage Alien Hellcats and Devil Dolls

Real work? Pah-sha! I fart in its general direction! After all, what could be a better ego stroke than seeing the bemused/puzzled reviews you all have been leaving, right? That, and I'm itching to get to the smut. Oh yes, the sweet smelling smutty smut-smuttiness of smut…

**Chapter 6: Teenage Alien Hellcats And Devil Dolls Do the Cyclops Rock!**

Zim stretched out across the cot he had set-up in Keef's attic. He was cramped into a tiny corner right underneath the roof's peak from all the boxes, confined to a place that was moldy, stifling hot, and excessively dark in a dankly attic sort of way…which is just how Zim liked it. Besides, the attic was his only escape from HORRIBLE happiness permeating the rest of the house. Its perpetually gloomy atmosphere created by the perfected combination of neglect and antique architecture was totally resistant to every one of Keef's frequent attempts at 'cheering up' the place, even without Zim's extra help.

Reaching behind him, the alien selected one of latest batch of cutesy plushies Keef had given him at random. He held the blankly smiling teddy bear above his face for a moment, staring at it numbly before pressing his claws into its belly and ripping it apart with slow satisfaction. Zim closed his eyes blissfully as he listened to the seams tearing and imagining that it was Keef's happy face instead.

"You've gotten some issues," quipped the Other, plopping down at the edge of the cot.

Tossing the now tattered mass of fluff at it, Zim rolled over and muttered childishly, "I'm ignoring you…"

The Other glared down at him with such intensity that Zim could feel the baleful heat boring into the back of his skull. "I will not be _ignored_, Zim. Now, face me!"

"NO! GO AWAY!" Zim hissed. He dragged the pillow over his head and tried burrowing deeper into the thin mattress.

"You can't ignore me forever, Zim" rasped the Other smugly. "You have to sleep sometime…"

"Sleep?" He turned to face the Other. "But Irkens don't _need_ sleep!"

"Yah, because you used to be so drugged up on amphetamines. But you haven't got any left, do you Zim?"

"What babble is this? I am not drugged up! And my PAK is fully stocked with performance enhancers and the chemical regulators are working perfectly fine, thank you very much."

The Other chuckled. "Is that so? Then tell me, when was the last time you ran a diagnostic check?"

"Uh…" His brow furrowed in thought a moment before Zim suddenly goes psycho, "I'M NOT DEFECTIVE! HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY SANITY!"

"But I didn't say anything about sanity…"

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING NOISE TUBE!" Zim snapped, advancing on the Other. "You keep on and on and on, spilling those filthy lies around like…like poisonous sheep drippings! But you won't break me, THE MIGHTY ZIM! Because I see right through your tricks, meat-smelly. I know exactly who you are and you'll never succeed…"

"Really?" cooed the Other, leaning back against a wall that had appeared in mid-air. "And who am I now?"

Zim began laughing. In a startling burst of speed, he lunged for the Other only to have his smirking doppelganger pull off the most impressive back flip right as they collide. Extracting himself from the heap of junk and cardboard he'd crashed into, Zim turns to face his enemy only to see himself reflected in the old free-standing mirror. He giggled nervously, reaching into his PAK for the hand-held diagnostics panel. Fingers twitching, he punched the start-up button and stumbled back to the cot to wait.

"PAK system check complete. WARNING! Bio-chemical regulation system non-functional due to increased androgen hormone concentration. Corruption by foreign matter is most probable source of disturbance."

"Foreign matter!" Zim rasped, horrified at the possibility of having GERMS. It didn't even occur to him that the problem may have been caused by the genetic tampering he had done to himself by introducing key elements of human (specifically, Dib's) DNA in order to surpass his archenemy. Besides, he had conveniently recalled an earlier encounter with the Dib; an encounter that had nearly cost Zim not only his life, but his identity as well…

"DIB!" He leapt up with a scream. "YOU BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME! TO THINK THAT I, ZIM, WAS PRACTICALLY LIVING WITHIN YOUR HUMANY-HUMANNESS! YOU'VE INFECTED ME WITH YOUR CRAZINESS, YOU FUCKING LITTLE MONKEY!"

"Zim? Are you alright!" gasped Keef as he burst into attic. He caught sight of the shredded plushy and the collapsed boxes.

Cut short during his enraged howling, Zim glared darkly at the boy. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"It's my house, Zim." Concerned, Keef moved toward him with hands outstretched. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Just peachy…" he sneered.

The smile flicked back on as Keef asked, "Lunch's ready. Wanna come down and eat?"

"No."

The smile faltered. "But I made Carpaccio de Pesce and melon sorbet…"  
(a/n: _Somebody's_ been watching too much FoodNetwork.)

Zim arched an 'eyebrow' at him, wondering about the dangers that faced anyone foolish enough to ingest any product so girly-named as "sorbet" before growling, "Shouldn't you be at Skool right now?"

"Silly Zim! The Skool got blown up, so they're giving us a week off till they get a new building. Now we can spend even more time together!" Keef chirped, hugging Zim around the waist.

Arching back, Zim shoves him away and sputtering, "Get you filthy paws off of me!"

Keef looks slightly hurt for a second but soon recovers in time to notice Zim moving for the stairs. "Hey, buddy! Where you going?"

"Out."

"Great! Let me get my coat and we'll…"

"Alone. I need to be alone right now…" Zim grumbled. When Keef began to say something, the glare of pure venom he gave the boy was enough to knock the grin off his face. Clicking around on his heels, Zim turned and walked out, leaving Keef standing there alone.

-

Straightening up the counter for the eighth time that day, Shabs sighed. Six years of study for a doctorate in pharmaceutical chemistry only to spend his life doling out pills in some hackney Walgreen's wanna-be. Sometimes it made him wonder why he even bothered.

"Hey! Hey! Drug-seller!"

Shabs turned toward the impatient, twiggy green young man and forced a happy smile. "Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you toady?"

"I need the following compounds," snarled the man, tossing a list at him.

"Alright, sir…" Shabs glanced at the list, blinked, and re-read it again. "Uh…Methamphetamine, bupropion, loxapine, marinol…Oh Be-jebus! Cannabis sativa! Sir! Do you have prescriptions for all these!"

"Prescription! I don't need no stinking prescription! Now, give to Zim!"

"Excuse me, sir, but I cannot give you any of these medications because they are all restricted by Federal law due their addictive natures and the high probability of misuse. Plus cannabis isn't exactly _legal_ in this country…"

"But…but you don't understand! My PAK was sabotaged, leaving its chemical synthesizers unable to create more of the substances that regulate my emotions and my meat-brain! Without those compounds, my regulators will continue malfunctioning until they finally quit working altogether, leaving me to spiral into an never-ending spiral of **_MADNESS!_**"

"That may be, sir," grumbled Shabs, prying the man's hands off of his lab coat. "But I still cannot legal sell you those drugs without first seeing a prescription from a reliable doctor, psychiatric professional, or health clinic. Now, I'd suggest you go see one of them **_first_** and then come back here with a prescription."

"RARGH! YOU FUC-" Before Zim could leap across the counter and manhandle Shabs, two of the store security guards appeared from nowhere and hurled him out into the street.

"If you try that again, punk, we'll ban you from the store," threatened Large Guard 1.

Zim glared at them, getting that dirt off his shoulder as he stood there plotting. Seeing that it would be futile to try going back up to the counter and that wretched clerk, he carefully slipped into the alley adjacent to the pharmacy. He was almost to the back door when a smelly hippie popped-up from the ground in front of him.

"Whuzzup, Little Greenie? You looking to get a quick fix?" The smelly hippie opened up his coat to display the candy-color rainbow of baggies. "I've got uppers, downers, Black Beauties, coke, meth, poppers, reds, ecstasy, GHB, special K; You name it, I've got it! Or may be you wanna little weed?" He held open the opposite flap to show the row upon row of marijuana sorted into convenient packets or already rolled joints.

"Stink-creature, your wares seem…not good. How do I know they'll work?" asked Zim after a moment's thought.

"Oh! I assure you, my discerning friend! My shit is the finest quality around! And I'm selling at the lowest prices in town! So you wanna try, Greenie?"

Torn between his inherit paranoia and the desperation to get back to a state closer to normal (well, _normal _for a megalomaniacal alien invader), Zim finally fished out a handful of Earth monies. "I'll take ten packets of those red pills, six of the pink pills, and the most potent…uh, 'weed' you have."

"Sure thing, my man!" The smelly hippie gladly snapped up the monies and gave Zim the packets and his finest One-Hit-Shit, neglecting to mention that he had paid ten-times the street value for it all. "Can I set you up with anything else?"

"Hmm… You have any ethanol in there?"

The smelly hippie gaped at him.

"Dude, get real! That shit's bad for you!" With that, the smelly hippie sank back into the ground.

Zim shrugged and, quickly swallowing a handful of pills, walked back out of the alley to find himself some ethyl alcohol to finish reestablishing his internal equilibrium. He wandered the city streets aimlessly for hours, feeling slightly less tensed now that he had a fresh dose of stimulant being pulsated through his veins. Streetlights flickered on overhead as Zim cruised toward a likely looking establishment.

No matter where you went in the universe, if you wanted to get hard liquor cheap, no questions asked, there would always be the dive-bar. And inside was exactly what a dive-bar should be: dirty, rancid smelling, and patronized by the scummiest scum of society. Just inhaling that noxious blend of stale vomit and booze dragged Zim back to those times on Devestia when he'd sneak out of training to get his drink on.

Riding a wave of nostalgia, Zim went up to the bar and began looking for the highest proof on the shelf. "Hey, bartender! Bring me a—"

"Hey, punk!" interrupted when one of the scum who had decided that Zim's green skin, girly slim figure, and clothing was too offensive to his Skynard loving redneckism.

Keeping his rage in check, Zim tried again. "I want bottle of—"

"We ain't got no bitch beer, pansy boy!" Skynard continued, leaning in close so Zim could gain the full bouquet of his beer breath.

Zim glanced at the bottle dangling from the redneck's beefy hand. "You call that beer? I drank stronger than that when I was a smeet!"

"Oh, so you think you're a bad ass, huh? Mick! Get the shot glasses and the tequila!"

Poker-faced, Mick the bartender sat up the bottle and the glasses as the rest of the bar closed in to watch the contest.

"Alright, pussy," sneered Skynard with sick grin. "We're each going to take one shot each till either the bottle's empty or one of us hits the floor. Loser pays for everybody tonight. Deal?"

"Sure, sure…"

The first four shots went by quickly, but by the fifth Skynard was teetering a bit on his stool. The sixth, seventh, and eighth saw him start to list heavily while Zim was knocking them back without a care in the world. By the ninth, Skynard was about ready to hit the floor but still Zim seem unaffected.

"You're going down, bitch-boy…" Skynard slurred letting Mick pour the tenth shot. The glass had hardly reached his mouth before the redneck went tumbling backwards off his stool.

The gathered scum stared at the green stranger in reverent awe and confusion.

Downing the shot, Zim snickered at his fallen opponent and nonchalantly tossed back the remaining tequila before turning to Mick. "Now, can I have a bottle of Everclear?"

-

_Meanwhile, 'neath the unassuming suburbs…_

Gaz carefully adjusted the stone in its setting, fixing the connective wires and the pentagram alignment until it was perfectly attuned to the cosmic forces of vengeance and dark magic. Which was easy for her since the method outlined by the great sages was identical to the way she had her Japanese FlayStation2 hooked-up.

Satisfied, Gaz cut on the recharger and watched wide-eyed as the surge of dull violet energy flowed into the spell drives, filling them with an unholy power. She snapped back into her regular disinterest with a lazy snort as she walked over to the now sheet covered table.

'Soon…soon…' Gaz took a deep breath and then snapped, "Begin running spell: BLACKLIGHT."

The bolt of energy struck Gaz before she could even brace herself. It surged over and _into_ her, burning her vision into a dense, ultraviolet haze.

The thing on the table began to shudder, limbs twitching as if it were being electrified.

Gaz felt the floor beneath her feet buckle and shift like the earth was tearing itself apart to swallow her up. The energy twisted deeper inside until she could sense it melting down the very essence of her. As she collapsed in convulsions to the floor, Gaz was vaguely aware of someone—a woman?— screaming next to her. Then, just before the glowing darkness completely consumed her, Gaz realized that the screams were her own.

-

"GAZZY, I'M HOME!" shrieked G.I.R. as it bounded into the house, a gargantuan bag of McMeaties burger stuff held high over its head. It stood in the living for a moment awaiting her displeased growl, but there was simply quiet. Shrugging, it walked into the kitchen and down the steps to the lab below.

G.I.R. knew that Gaz had said that it wasn't allowed to come down there because she was busy working on a surprise for his master, but the magic weenie told G.I.R. that everything would be alright since it was just telling her that dinner was here. Besides, the little robot really, really, really-really wanted to see what the big surprise was.

Tripping, G.I.R. slide down the last few stairs on its tiny metal hinny. It skidded to a stop right at the edge of the spell drive circle and, sensing someone moving around, peeked it's head around.

"Gaz?" The word hung unanswered as the robot stared blankly at the violet-hued scene.

Laying on the floor was Gaz's still body, splayed out at a painful angle as a dark, sheet-covered figure leaned over her. The figure was poking her warily with one metal claw as if it thought she might get back up and maul him.

"You… You hurt the Scary Lady…" Overcome with a surge of uncharacteristic anger, G.I.R. shifted to duty-mode and, glaring red, deployed its entire arsenal. "You DIE!"

"G.I.R.! DON'T! IT'S ME!" Whipping back the sheet, the figure stood up and revealed that he was…

"BIG-HEAD BOY!" squealed the robot in surprised glee. "What you doin' here!"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Dib retorted in a frighteningly hateful tone.

"I brought home some dinner!" G.I.R. answered, waving a McMeaties burger in Dib's face. "Want some?"

"No." Pushing the greasy food-like substance away, Dib readjusted the sheet and picked Gaz up from the floor. He stepped past the robot as he headed toward the stairs.

"Hey! Where you goin'? What's the matter with Gazzy!"

"She's sick." Dib muttered, carrying his sister's limp body back to the main house level, then up to her room with G.I.R. trailing close behind. With gentle care, he tucked her into bed and turned to the confused robot.

"Listen, G.I.R." he said softly. "Gaz is feeling very, very, very sick right now. I'd watched her, but I've got some important stuff to do so I need you to stay and keep an eye on her for me, okay?"

"But…"

"It would make Gaz happy if you did. And you do want Gaz to be happy, don't you G.I.R.?"

"Okay, Dib-head!" cooed the robot, plopping down onto the bed next to her before digging into its feast of burger-flavored food.

Dib started to leave then turned sharply back. "Oh, and one last thing: Don't mess up my—eh, Gaz's stuff while I'm gone."

There was a muffle gulp of agreement as G.I.R. continued to wallow in the grease dripping bag. Dib growled in annoyance but simply pulled the door shut. Getting dressed quickly, he stepped out of his room and into the bathroom to get a look at himself.

Dib could hardly believe the boy staring back was really him now. Glaring one eye at him, the flesh felt cold and dead when he reached up to touch it. The cow-like came up in a shock of black wire from the unkempt mass bristling on his head. His limbs moved in a jerky, pained way like a puppet being pulled along by its strings. Even his clothes had a disheveled look to them as if he had dug through somebody else's closet and thrown on this stranger's clothing without bothering to see if they fit right.

"Dib," he sneered in a vicious falsetto. "You really look like hell."

There was a giggle, then he answered in a slightly more normal voice, "Well Gaz, you know how that saying goes: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. So, if you'll excuse me, I've going to kill Zim now. Later."

Still giggling, Dib left the house and drove off in the coup.


	7. Prelude To Agony

(After many raps…) Alright! Alright! Here! New chapter with enough slash implied to keep me from disappointing you all. Oh, I do so enjoy the sound of Jhonen's hate-filled screams… Spoofs those Zim gets the sex ANGST!-fics. I'd also like to thank my good friend Fig for giving me some much-needed inspiration.  
**WARNING!** _Painful, icky, and non-con smut at the end because Keef is ready made to be molested by aliens…And I never said this was purely ZADR slash… _

**Chapter 7: Prelude to Agony**

A hangover stampeded across his brain like the hooves of a thousand mugwumps, but Zim felt good despite the pain. In fact, he was feeling the best he had in a long time. Shame this surging euphoria didn't satisfy the **_hunger_** tingling in his belly. What he needed was snacks, and he needed them _fast_. Yet all his snacks were locked up in the base! Luckily, the International House Of Eating 24-7 loomed up right across the street from him. He was sickened by the thought of consuming earthen food but if he wanted to stop the **_hunger_**...

"Good morning, sir! How may we service you today?" chirped the waitress when he stepped through the doors. She was the most pert and perky example of _girl_ Zim had met since that HORRIBLE Mary-Anne creature. And worse, this one wasn't a robot…

"I desire food!" the alien snapped, trying hard not to reach for his disintegration gun.

"Alrighty! Smoking or non?"

"Eh…" He glanced around. There was a smallish room filled with truckers puffing away. The rest of the eatery was empty except for one scruffy guy hunkered in a booth at the back. "Non."

Soon, Zim found himself at a booth, complimentary coffee urn at hand. He didn't even bother looking at the menu, simply ordering a burger and fries before waving _girl_ off. As he waited, Zim found his gaze wandering back to the scruffy guy.

The screen of his laptop hid the guy's face but that scything shock of hair looked incredibly familiar…

"Inconceivable!" Zim hissed, shaking it off. "It's not possible that he'd be _here_."

A few seconds later, Zim's paranoia got the better of him. He chanced a look back at the guy, just to make sure that wasn't he Dib, but the guy had gotten up to leave. He almost managed to see the guy's face at the register before the waitress with her food tray blocked his view.

"MOVE! GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Zim snarled as he frantically tried to crane his neck around her.

She giggled at his attempts "Don't worry about the bill! That nice young man already paid it."

When she pointed out the window, Zim twisted around just in time a pale coup whip out of the parking lot. He vaulted over the waitress and barreled out the door, rushing blindly down the street after the coup. The chase lasted nearly twenty blocks, punctuated by a few moments when Zim _almost_ caught the possible Dib. Finally, winded and still **_hungry_**, the alien gave up.

"That couldn't…have been _Dib_…"Zim panted as he held onto a stop sign for support. "I'm hallucinating again… The drugs…they must be wearing off…"

He popped back a few more pills, then straightened and glared down the dark, empty street. "Damn all of you DIRTY APES! When I conqueror your MISERABLE planet, the first thing I'm going to do is have every last fucking one of you that even vaguely resembles Dib drug out into the street and SLAUGHTERED!"

"**THUNCK!**"

"Eh!" Surprised, Zim looked at the broken signpost in his hand. He glanced quickly around to make sure nobody saw him do that and, satisfied there were no witnesses, speedily marched away as if nothing had happened.

Yet there was still the **_hunger_** gnawing away at Zim's fleshy insides, growing to the point that even his meat-brains were heaving from its strange prickly heat. He briefly considered going back to I.H.O.E. 24-7, but immediately nixed the idea because Zim, knowing all about _girlish_TREACHERY, was certain that vile waitress-creature had poisoned the food. On the other hand, where else could he go for snack foods at 4 'o clock in the morning?

Then, in a brilliant flash of plot railroading, Zim caught sight of the gleaming shelves laden with snacks in a 24-7 convenience store. Cheerful that his salvation from the **_hunger_** was nigh, he hustled inside and began ransacking the store for every kind of junk food he could find. When at last he was unable to hold another packet of Dip-Stixs, Zim stumbled up the counter and dumped his load upon it.

"Jesus," muttered Todd, the new night-clerk, staring at the heap. "I've never seen anyone get this much chemically preserved, sugar-laden garbage… Except maybe the scary neighbor guy…"

"Yes, yes… Fascinating. Now, do your PATHETIC job and be SILENT!"

Todd let out a tiny 'squee!' but did his duty. Even so, he kept staring up at Zim.

"What the hell are you looking at?"

"Sorry," Todd squeaked. "But I've never seen a green-skinned and noseless person with three fingers before. In fact, you look like a cheesy alien invader from one of those late-night movies…"

"Alien! Me!" Laughing too loudly, Zim shook his head. "Don't be silly, earth boy! I am as normal as you."

Suddenly, Zim's contact popped out and one antennae slipped free from his wig.

For a second, neither one said not a word nor moved. Then Zim hastily readjusted his INGENIOUS disguise.

"You didn't see that…" he hissed threateningly, tossing the money in Todd's face and grabbing the snacks.

Todd smiled that twitchy smile of the mortally terrified as he muttered, "I'm not even supposed to be here today…"

Zim, meanwhile, had begun to wander the city again while munching away at his epic haul of snacks. However, no matter how many Dip-Stixs or Poop Bars he gorged upon, the **_hunger_** remained. Finishing all that and a bag of chips, Zim plopped down on the bus-stop bench.

"I don't understand!" he huffed to himself. "I've eaten enough for an Irken triple my height and weight! So why am I still so **_hungry_**?"

Ruminating, Zim was struck by a thought. "Perhaps these INFERIOR Earth chemicals are over-stimulating my hunger responses… To stop this infernal **_hunger_**, I must stop taking the drugs! But, if I do that, my chemical regulators will fail and I'll go CRAZY again. Yet I can't keep eating like this! I haven't enough monies left and I can't go make more with the base in lock-down! Even if I had access to enough monies, I can't return to that store again. The Squeeing human saw through my disguise! But I ought to go back there anyway and vaporize him before he goes to the Earth authorities…Wait! Why didn't I just do that in the first place? And why even bother _paying_ for snacks when I'm going to destroy this planet anyway! And why I'm talking to myself like Dib use to…"

Shaken by that sudden insight, Zim leapt up and began walking again. "Focus! I must use my ASTOUNDING Invader training to find some place with free food without drawing any undue attention to myself! A place where I can also store enough medication to use till I can figure out a way to fix my regulators. A place that is low-profile and not too conspicuous…"

Unaware that he was now in the suburbs, Zim continued pondering temporary bases as he meandered up the brick walkway flanked by sunshine yellow mums. He had passed the kitsch lawn gnomei and smeared grim over the cutesy 'Welcome!' mat before the solution hit him.

"Of course! How could I be so stupid!" gasped Zim, yanking the door open without thinking. "I'll just go take over Dib's base! It's got everything I need: a lab, computers, an arsenal, med-units, Tak's ship…"

Smug grin plastered across his face, Zim nonchalantly waltzed into the house only to be pounced upon by a very distraught Keef.

"Oh Zim! I was so worried!" sobbed the boy as he clung onto Zim like a cuddly leech. "When you ran off, I knew must've been something I said! I've been waiting the whole night and would've waited forever for you to come home so I could apologize! I've been so insensitive! Dragging you to the mall! Always bugging you and acting like some dumb kid! Oh, how could I even begin to understand the pain you're going through? Oh PLEASE Zim! Forgive me!"

Zim barely heard Keef's wailing because it was drowned out by the overwhelming surge of **_hunger_**. The seething, brain-boiling intensity caused long suppressed primordial instinct to awaken within Zim's meat-brain and began screaming for action. What that action _was_ eluded him thanks to the sudden lose of all logical thought. Keef's frantic hugs and cuddles was only complicating things…

"Bathroom!" gasped Zim, finally pushing Keef away. "I need to go to the bathroom!"

Free of the boy's angst ridden clinging, Zim rushed into potpourri scented bathroom and locked the door behind him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to figure out what just happened. Was his Pak malfunctioning again? Or had Dib's youthful sabotageii included some insidious deathtrap, triggered when he nearly killed the human? Or could it possible be that he wanted sex?

…Wait. Sex?

Invaders didn't have _sex_. Like most Irkens, they lacked the equipment for sex. Only the Tallers or Breeders fully developed _that way_. A functional Pak's hormonal suppression prevented both the onset of pubescence and those revolting bodily changes, like growing much taller and thinner than was natural. Zim was absolutely certain he knew his own body well enough to have noticed anything unusual.

Glancing in the mirror hung behind the door, Zim abruptly realized just how much taller he had gotten. In fact, he was sure that his was roughly the same height as both the Tallests' now. He wrapped his hands around his waist and discovered to his utter amazement found that he could easily touch his fingertips together.

"That…that doesn't mean anything!" Zim growled at himself. "I'm still perfectly normal! Besides, if this was puberty, then I'd also experience horrific mood-swings, violent jealousy, a raise in aggression, and delusions. And I haven't done any of that, right?"

He thought about all the strangeness that had been going on for the past few months. The weird feelings toward Dib, those pleasant pains in his belly, his Tallest Purple's odd behavior, the mysterious Other Zim, the **_hunger_**…

"Inconceivable!" he gasped at the frightening conclusion. "As MAGNIFICENT and DESERVING as I am, there's no way I would've not noticed this before! If I have become a Tallest, then why don't I have a…a…"

Zim nervously looked down at his crotch. Was that bulge supposed to be there? And when was the last time he'd seen himself fully in the nude? Or, as shameful as the idea was, even examined _down there_? Hell! For all he knew, there could be a hideous Earth parasite attach to him right now, sucking away at his sweet delicious blood!

Frantically, Zim stripped his clothes off and checked every inch of his body for anything abnormal. His skin was a uniformly smooth green except for the faint scars from his last battle with Dib and, oddly, a tattoo of a flaming skull holding a rose in a bleeding heart on his shoulder. He still couldn't figure out where _that_ came from… Everything else looked normal…everything but that peculiar, swollen slit in his lower abdomen.

Poking at it, Zim stifled a pained cry and jerked his hand away. He grimaced disgustedly at the pasty goo, but it took more than pain or icky fluids to stop the determined Invader. Zim readied himself and thrust a claw into it only to rub against something hard yet rubbery, sending a jolt of ecstasy up his spine.

To his immense relief, it made the **_hunger _**subside a little. So Zim did it again and again and again…

Suddenly the doorknob rattled.

"Zim? Are you okay?" Keef asked, peeking his head in.

"Fine! I'm FINE!" gasped the alien as he quickly ducked behind the shower curtain. "I…I was just so busy with my perfectly average human hygiene that I lost track of time! I wasn't doing anything dirty!"

Keef blinked. "I never said you were…"

"Oh…" Zim let out a nervous chuckle. "Eh, I'm getting dressed now."

"Okay!" With that, he ducked back out and shut the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Zim stepped out of the shower. He swore under his breath when he awkwardly buttoned his pants. He cursed out loud at the way he had to crush the newly risen nub in to avoid catching anything in the zipper.

"Fucking Keef!" he rasped, wincing at the unpleasant tightness. "With his clingy clinging and his stupid friendship! Following me constantly… Always popping into my quarters… He never gives me a moment alone! And his incessant talking!" Dropping into an asinine Keef impression, Zim chirped, " 'Morning buddy! Wanna do some moronic human bonding today?'-'I have a GREAT idea, Zim! Let's go pick flowers together! It'll be soooo much FUN!' ARAGH! It's like he's in LOVE with me or something!"

The revelation hit Zim like a meteor shower.

"Keef? In LOVE with me?" he whispered stupidly, mulling over the implications. An evil smirk spread over his face. "I may be able to use this to my advantage and…. NO! That's just disgusting! I would NEVER have sex with a human! NEVER! NEVER EVER!"

_Five seconds later…  
_

Keef whistled a happy little tune as he began straightening up Zim's 'room'. So intent was the boy upon fixing a comforter on the cot that he failed to notice Zim standing without his disguise, ominously shadowed in the door behind him. It was only when he turned around to fluff up the pillows that Keef saw his 'friend'.

"Oh! Hey Zim," he chirped brightly. "Sorry about –"

"No. I'm the one that should be sorry…" sighed Zim, stepping out into the dim light to reveal the awfully sincere unhappiness on his face. "I never meant to be so…so HARSHtoward you! So inconsiderate of OUR friendship! I've been so UNGRATEFUL! After everything that you've done to-eh, _for_ me!"

"Aw, Zim, I understand that you're still upset about Dib…"

"Dib?" He blanked for a second but recovered the ANGST fast. "Oh yeah…_Dib_… Alas! How the thought of what happened _pains_ me so!" Dramatically, Zim collapsed onto the edge of the cot and let out an angsty moan. "Oh, if only…if only… No! I won't burden you, my dearest dear friend, with the anguished passions burning my insides and those secrets that must remain hidden deep within my poor lonely heart!"

"But that's what friends are for, Zim." Keef sat down next to the angst-ridden alien. "You can trust me."

Zim sniffled. "Oh…That's just what I thought about _Dib_! But when I revealed to him that I _am_ an alien—" Going way over the top in his acting, he let a wail and buried his face in his hands. In between the faked heaving sobs, Zim chanced a peek between his fingers.

Gently, Keef put a comforting arm about Zim. "It's okay Zim… I don't care where you came from or what you are! You're still my best friend and I swear I'll never hurt you."

"Yes you will!" howled Zim, shying away from the embrace. "You humans are all the same! Whenever an ADVANCED civilization tries to embrace you in cosmic FRIENDSHIP, you always treat us like freaks! You'll do exactly what _Dib_ did! Spreading those HORRIBLE LIES about me being some evil fiend bent upon invading this planet, even though you humans would be POWERLESS to stop my CONQUEST, all I ever wanted was to spread intergalactic _LOVE_!"

"Dib would never!" gasped the boy, moving closer.

"You know NOTHING about _Dib_!" came the snap as his expression darkened. "You know NOTHING about ME! How could you understand the way I felt when that bastard _spurned_ me…" In his rage, Zim forgot the seduction and let slip a murderous snicker, "Oh, how the **_girl_** paid for messing what's **_mine_**…"

Keef stared in shock at the implication. "So _that's _what happened…"

"Eh?" Snapping out of psycho-mode, the alien realized what he just said. "It's not what you think! SHE WAS DEAD WHEN I GOT THERE! The zombies! They—"

"I don't blame you, Zim"

"…tearing her STINKING entrails out and—What?"

"That horrible bitch kidnapped you and then tried to feed you to her evil zombie hordes!" Keef looked up at his green friend, eyes wobbly with sympathy and a peculiar sparkly-ness. "And Dib rushed to rescue you! Arriving just in the nick of time then heroically sacrificing himself to prove his undying LOVE!" He sniffed. "It's so romantic…"

"Dib never loved me!" spat Zim with paranoid shriek. "No one ever loved me!"

Keef blurted out, "But I love you Zim."

The silence crashed in thunderously.

"You love me?" mumbled the alien darkly. It can't be this easy…

Blushing coyly, the boy stared at the floor and nodded.

An arrogant grin slithered over Zim's mouth. "And would you do anythingfor me?"

"I'll do anything you ask." Keef gasped, turning that crazed, doe-eyed gaze on the alien.

Grin breaking into a perfect tooth-baring smile of VILLAINY, Zim let out an unclean chuckle as he leaned in closer and slipped a clawed finger under Keef's jaw and sliding his other hand down Keef's side and around the boy's waist.

"_Anything_?" he asked in a breathy rasp, tilting Keef's head back sharply with a vicious press of his claw.

"_Anything_." The boy's voice wavered slightly but that sparkling adoration remained in his eyes.

Zim smiled like madness, digging his fingers firmly into Keef's hair he drag the boy onto his lap. With an evil snicker, Zim lunged forward and started biting at the exposed piece of throat hard enough to leave red welts across the skin. Keef began gasping, squirming and trying futilely to shove Zim away but the alien ignored his struggling. Instead of easing up, Zim chewed a way up Keef's jugular and his tongue slithered over the boy's cheek leaving a sticky trail of spit behind.

Drawing back slightly, Zim savored the frightened, trapped look in Keef's eyes a moment before effortlessly flipping the boy onto his stomach. Holding the boy still with one hand, he raked his claws down Keef's back and quickly parted Keef from his shorts. In a few more fumbles, gropes, and the creative use of hand lotion, Zim was poised to take the rear.

"Wait!" panted Keef, glancing back over his shoulder. "Please! I…I've never done this before. Please, be gentle."

Unfortunately for Keef's fragile virtue, Zim was only half-listening as laid down against the boy's back before pushing in and relishing the hardly stifled squeal. He began slowly, wincing at the strangeness of it, but soon the thrusts were coming like mad. Between Keef writhing and howling underneath and the tightened pleasure building up inside, Zim felt his mind reeling on the brink of …of _something…_

Then there came a momentary burst of release, gone almost as quickly as it hit. Zim rolled off Keef and stared up at the slanting roof as he caught his breath. The **_hunger_** wasn't quite gone, but at least he could think straight. He was rather surprised by how disappointed he felt. From all the research he had gleaned over the past five years, Zim had been lead to believe that sex was an experience verging on the epic. During the moment it was fun to make Keef squirm and so was the gratifying little powertrip, but now there was a bored vacuum inside.

Speaking of Keef, he was still dazed from being on the receiving end of one serious mattress pounding. But he managed to shift tentatively onto his side and cuddle up to rather unmoved alien beside him.

Zim groaned miserably, but was feeling too worn-out to shove the boy away. Even though he'd never done it before either but judging from the streaks of blood on the covers, Zim had a good idea that his over-eagerness must've hurt Keef. And yet here the boy was, snuggling up to him with a satisfied smile as if nothing was wrong. The alien glanced down at the boy now lying with his head on Zim's chest, fast asleep. He couldn't help the anger buzzing through his mind. If it had been Dib, there was a good chance Zim would find chunks of himself splattered on the walls.

"Damn it," grumbled Zim. "I never thought I could actually miss Dib…"

Actually, the more he thought about it, the more Zim realized how much more of a challenge there would have been in getting Dib submit. Keef had been too easily subdued and too blinded by his FOOLISH need for **_LOVE_** to resist.

Zim hadn't lied when he said that the paranormalist never loved him. What he'd left out was just how mutually violent the _hatred_ between them had become. Each was filled with a hateful passion for the other that had long-since grown past being dangerously homicidal. He could admit that jealousy drove him to ruin Dib's life…

Taking a deep breath, Zim closed his eyes and went back to that night of blood and fire. Could any of these MISERABLE monkeys even have come close to the sheer depth of _hatred_, the sheer _gratification_ in causing violence? Okay, maybe Gaz could…but he had always deeply suspected that she was never entirely human to begin with… Besides, although it had been an amusing diversion to get a little well-deserved payback on the devil girl, Zim noticed that Gaz never enjoyed their battles the way her brother did.

For a brief moment, Zim almost regretted putting Dib into a coma and in the blackened underworld of his vile little heart, the alien feverishly wished that his greatest nemesis would return to him soon.

i http:en. ! THIS is the Garden Gnome.

ii References the cancelled episode "Ten Minutes to Doom".


	8. Little Sister, Can't You Find Another Wa...

Just when you thought V had quit ripping off _Kill Bill_…

_Musical Credits_:  
_Gotta Get Away_ (The Offspring), _Superfly _(Curtis Mayfield)

**Chapter 8: Little Sister, Can't You Find Another Way?**

Trashing about madly, Zim struggled against the insidious coils of darkness imprisoning him only to making their noose-grip tighter. Escape was impossible now. He knew that. He'd always known_ it _would overtake him one day, even if his pride would never let him admit that. But Zim, not matter how disillusioned, was still a soldier of the MIGHTY Irken Empire and he would go out fighting, DAMMIT!

As the last burst of life was crushed out of him, Zim shoot bolt upright. For a moment, he sat in the middle of his cot, his panicked stare darting around the darkened attic. Dimly, he realized that the clock-radio was playing and, turning toward its eerie green glow, listened in a daze to the sharp hiss of static and guitars.

"_Sitting on the bed or lying wide awake…_" droned maddening chant."_There's demons in my head, and it's more than I can take. Think I'm on a roll, but I think it's kind of weak… Saying all I know is I gotta get away from me… Gotta get away from me…_"

Zim slammed the snooze button with a fist as the paranoia seized him. Why?—of all the nauseating trash that passed for human '_music_'— Why was that song playing? Who the hell would set an alarm to go off at 5 o'clock in the morning? Wait… Just where did this fucking alarm clock of the DAMNED come from in the first place? And how had it gotten here! Suddenly, Zim realized the answer.

"_Keef_…."

He glared over his shoulder at the offending human still curled up underneath the twisted covers. All of Zim's nightmare-induced contortions hadn't disturbed the boy's sleep. In fact, Zim angrily noted Keef's contented sigh as he no doubt dreamt of new ways to torment the alien. Growling, Zim climbed off the cot and, straightening his rumpled clothes, trudged to the bathroom.

Away from the stench of sweat and human spooge, Zim couldn't help noticing this bizarre odor that formed a cloud of reeking nastiness which had followed him. It could only be described as being the smell you'd experience being downwind of a rancid iguana carcass that had been left on top of a compost heap during a humid summer afternoon. Zim's multiple exploratory sniffs revealed to his utter disgust that this odor was coming for HIS OWN BODY!  
(a/n: Super-sexy, eh ladies?)

"SWEET MONKEY BUTTER! I smell REVOLTING!" He ransacked every drawer, cabinet, and shelf in sight in a desperate search for anything strong enough to cover the reptilian stench. Soon he's efforts had yielded an assortment of lotions and perfumes with fragrances ranging from Springtime Pansies to Miss Dainty's Beautiful Garden Breeze. Zim recoiled away from the overwhelming femininity staring back at him in all its TERRIBLE pastel sweetness. In a fit of butchness, the alien swept the bottles to the floor and wrenched open the medicine cabinet.

Hidden behind a nearly empty tissue box and some Vaseline, a squat bottle of amber fluid gleamed in a sleazy light all its own. The Old School black label proclaimed in blinding silver text, "**Pimp Juice**".

"Pimp Juice?" Zim mumbled, staring at the bottle skeptically. With the utmost caution, lest it be more _girliness_, he opened it and too a deep whiff. It assailed his nasal pores with a bitch slap that was the raw musk of **_MANLINESS_**. Funk powered beats pounded his skull as a smooth masculine voice kept chanting "_Superfly…_". Before he fainted from the sheer mass of machismo, Zim recapped the bottle. "So… _potent… _Perfect!"

Grinning and cackling madly, he liberally splashed the Pimp Juice on himself until the B.O. was smacked down into quivering submission. Little gears started clicking away in Zim's AMAZING mind as thoughts of vivid red giant hats and bleached white fur coats strutted on 5 foot platforms through his vision. Yes…Soon no mere human would be able to resist the **_manliness_** of Zim!

Carefully stashing the Pimp Juice in his PAK for later use, Zim closed the medicine cabinet and took a moment to appraise his **_manliness_**. Lightning flashes and he see the pale angry face of Dib glaring at him from the rain spattered second-story window.

"DIB!" He shrieked, whipping around to confront his favorite enemy only to find nobody there. Zim blinked and turned back to the mirror to find, scrawled in toothpaste, "_Die, Bastard, Die!_".

"Wait," snarked the alien as he started to look back. "If you're out there, then how could you write that?"

Another lightning flash and the reappearance of Dib's death-glare jutted out a frighteningly impossible angle causing Zim to shriek again. Yet another flash and Dib's jutting from the other side of the window. Zim shrieks some more. The next flash has Dib hanging upside down, glaring like a demon as Zim lets out one last shriek. There's one more flash, and this time Zim rushes to the window, yanking it open to scan the darkness but Dib has vanished.

Without warning, the single lightbulb blew and plunged the room into blackness. Zim froze when he heard something pounding downstairs, then there was silence. "The front door…"

Zim quickly edged out of the bathroom and to the top of the stairs. The door hung open letting sleet and dead leaves blow inside. A faint trail of muddy boot-prints leading into the ominous shadows. Falling naturally into his old stalking slink, Zim crept downstairs and through the murky living room. Ahead gaped the archway to the kitchen, tense and brooding as the alien stared the unknown dead on. Zim felt like he was gliding inches above the floor as he walked into the blackness.

A blaze of lightning and booming thunder brought a sudden flashing blade. A blue-violet gash spurted down Zim's cheek as Dib lunged from hiding for another attack but in his heightened state of nervousness, Zim quickly dodged to the left in a backwards two-step. He kept backing out of reach as Dib slashed wildly at him until Zim slammed up against the counter. Groping blindly, his fingers closed around a handle and he swung a massive cast-iron skillet, knocking the knife from Dib's hand. Again, he swung the skillet and sent Dib reeling into the sink. Zim pounced, slugging Dib's head and chest as hard as he could. With surprising power, Dib slammed a boot into the alien's midsection causing Zim to crash straight into the fridge. Dazed, he saw Dib began moving in for the kill.

"Shit!" hissed the human as he stopped and disappeared into the darkness again.

Zim stumbled to his feet and saw that Keef, half-awake and yawning, click on the light. "Zim? I heard noises and—What happened!"

"I, uh…." Zim surveyed the destruction and sensed the boy worrying over the bleeding cut under his eye. He froze, trying to figure out a way to get Keef out of there, fast, so he could get back to battling Dib. Then, glancing down at the skillet still clutched in his hand, a MARVELOUS idea struck him. "I was trying to make breakfast! For you!"

"Really!" Keef brightened. "Aw, Zim… You don't have too."

"Oh, it's no trouble!" cooed Zim, hooking an arm over the boy's shoulders. "Now, why don't you go back to bed and I'll serve you breakfast in bed! My treat."

Turning a brilliant shade of red, Keef smile shyly. "All right." Without warning, he darted forward and boldly kissed Zim on the mouth. "I love, Zim."

"I-love-you-too…" gritted Zim as he shoved Keef away. When the boy was out of earshot, he growled curses under his breath.

"Freak."

Zim lashed around and snarled at Dib, who now leaning apathetically against the pantry door. Then a vicious smile snapped across his face. "What's the matter? Shocked that I now have _love _and the normal human relationship that you've so foolishly been striving for?"

Dib cocked an eyebrow. "Love coming from you is about as natural as an oral bowel movement."

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, _Dib_?" jeered the alien darkly as he slithered closer. "Are you angry that I'm loved? How about this: I'm also fucking him." He paused, expecting a reaction. When none came, he continued. "How does it feel, _Dib_? How does it feel to know that I've replaced you with Keef? How does if feel to know that you mean absolutely _nothing_ to me, _Dib_?" Voice shaking now, Zim leaned right into the human's impassive face. "Does it hurt yet, **_Dib_**?"

Dib rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Gaping in surprise, Zim took a step back. He started to say something, but the words stuck in his throat and came out a hoarse laugh.

"Whatever…" he repeated Dib's answer sourly, stepping over to the fridge. "You want a soda?"

"Yeah. Sure." Dib took the offered drink and, sitting at the table, rubbed at the drying blood on his face. "Do you have a towel?"

The alien snagged two dish towels off the rack and tossed one to the human.

"Thanks."

As they cleaned up, Zim sipped his drink quietly. "I suppose it's a little late for an apology."

"You suppose correctly." The voice was cold and malicious.

Slamming his drink down on the counter, Zim turned on him. "Look, asshole, I need to know if you're going to start any more shit around Keef…"

"Don't worry." Dib sneered. "I'm not going to murder you in front of your boyfriend, okay?"

Zim snorted. "You're acting more rational than I remember."

"It's mercy, compassion, and forgiveness I lack. Not rationality."

With a sigh, Zim leaned against the counter. "I know I fucked you over. I fucked you over bad. I wished I hadn't now, but I did. You have ever right to want to get even."

"No, no, no…" laughed Dib darkly. "To get even—Even Steven—I would have to kill you, go upstairs to Keef's room, kill him, then go get G.I.R. and Minimoose and kill them too. That would be even, Zim. That'd be about square."

"Look," growled Zim, moving up to the table. "If I could change the past and make that whole Mary-Anne thing disappear, I would in a heartbeat." He slumped exhaustedly. "But I can't. Not with my base locked down, anyway… All I can say is that I'm a different person now…"

"Oh, great." Dib dryly chirped. "I don't care."

"Be that as it may," Zim rasped, crossing his arms. "I know I don't deserve your mercy or your forgiveness. However, I beg you on behalf of my _dearly beloved_ Keef for both."

"Bitch, you can stop right there." Dib growled, snapping to his feet with such speed that the chair went clattering to the floor. "Just because I have no desire to murder you before the eyes of your fuck-buddy doesn't mean that parading him around in front of me is going to inspire sympathy." He leaned closer to Zim. "You and I have unfinished business. And not a goddamn thing you've fucking done in the subsequent nine months—including shacking up with Keef—is gonna change that."

"So, when do we do this?"

"It all depends," The human snarled. "When do you want to die? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?"

"How about tonight, fucker?"

Dib smiled. "Splendid. Where?"

"There's an abandoned hydroelectric plant about a mile from here. We meet there at, say, 2:30 in the morning, and we have us a good old-fashioned fight. Just like when we were young. Now," Zim muttered, hefting the skillet as he backed away. "I have to fix Keef's breakfast."

Watching Zim making bacon and eggs in a frilly pink apron, Dib finished his soda. "You know, I always knew you'd end up somebody's bitch."

"Fuck you!" barked Zim, threateningly brandishing a spatula. "I'll have you know I'm – how do you humans put it?—I'm the pitcher and Keef's the catcher."

That caused the human to snicker. "I bet."

"Oh, very funny," chuckled Zim, turning toward Dib. There was a faint 'click' as he slipped something out of his PAK. "Very fucking funny!"

Dib sidestepped the first burst of laser fire and bolted out the backdoor with Zim in hot pursuit. But by the time Zim clambered onto the back porch, his enemy had vanished into stormy pinkness of a suburban dawn.

"FUCK!" Zim slammed a fist into the doorjamb, knocking a sizeable hole in the wall. Despite the steady downpour, he moved to hunt the human down but stopped when he noticed a stream of smoke coming from the stovetop. "Oh shit!"

With thoughts of violence temporarily forgotten, Zim rushed back inside to salvage the badly charred remains of breakfast and prevent the house from being burnt down.

The rain had stopped by the time Keef had eaten his rather inedible breakfast and finished getting ready.

Zim settled for cold toast and handful of pills, gulped down while the boy was merrily chattering away about the upcoming school day. It was just like those wretched humans to reopen the Hi-Skool _now_ when he should be planning for the impending battle with Dib. Caught up in a strange sense of euphoric terror, he last track of the inane things Keef said as they drove in the shitty El Camino to Skool. The dirty looks Torque and his fellow jocks threw at the pair as they walked hand in hand up the stairs didn't register to Zim. It barely caught his attention that the Skool decorator had kept the design overly ultra-hip techno and the lavish indoor waterfall had been rebuilt. But now there was a new addition to the entrance display. Built to appear as if it was hovering over the top of the waterfall was a large glass and steel display case enshrining various pieces of Dib memorabilia. Dominating the center was a huge hologram of Dib and Mary-Anne in a loving embrace.

Zim froze when he saw the shrine, letting Keef's hand slip away. As if in a trance, he walked up to the edge of the pool but never tore his gaze away from that vile image of loving bliss. He sensed a tightness in his chest which made each breath come out barbed. Seething in fury, Zim whipped around on his heels and stormed out of the Hi-Skool, too blinded by rage to see the crowd part fearfully.

Running on the weird 'auto-pilot' of habit, Zim found himself marching directly for Dib's home base. He didn't care if the Gaz-beast was there, awake and pissed, and he didn't give a damn about the arrangement they had. Zim had grown sick of the waiting.

Past the blue energy fence and up the walkway, Zim practically kicked the front door in before storming into the living room. The layout was still the same as the last time he'd come to the Membrane home, except now there was garbage strewn over every horizontal surface. Zim snurled his 'nose' in disgust, stepping past the wads of greasy take-out napkins as he climbed the stairs.

The door to Dib's room gaped wide open, giving Zim a sense of uneasiness which grew as he slipped inside and looked around. There was a discarded sheet on the floor and filing folders strewn out over the still made bed. Idly, Zim picked one up and thumbed through it, pausing to stare at a photo here or an observation there. He grabbed up another, then another, stunned beyond reason at the sheer _amount_ of information Dib had gathered. There even was a folder devoted entirely to the human's random doodles, from his first childish drawings to the progressively more mature pieces that would make even de Sade flinch. Like the other folders, the central subject of them all was Zim. The entire collection of folders was a study in psychotically minute detail of the whole of Zim's existence since his arrival on Earth.

For a brief moment Zim was queerly happy to find that, despite the denials and years of indifference, the infernal big-head boy had never completely given up on stalking him. Then he noticed the odd stains on several of the photos Dib had taken of him with a peculiar sticky bleach-and-rotten-eggs smell. Sickened, Zim dropped the offending folder and moved toward the computer. Unexpectedly, small noise coming from down the hall caused Zim to freeze.

He crept quietly back out of Dib's room and stalked toward the noise which had come from the ominous doorway of Gaz's bedroom. Pausing briefly, Zim realized that nothing good could come of an encounter with the devil girl yet perverse curiosity compelled him to push the door open and see her even if meant painful mutilation. Much to his surprise, Gaz lay motionless on the bed, dressed in unusually cute angel-piggy pajamas. She looked totally harmless and that worried Zim more than Dib's folder collection.

The alien moved slowly toward her with the same caution one takes approaching a sleeping wolverine with rabies. He reached out and prodded Gaz in the boob. Not only was he amazed at not being mauled for such boldness but the jiggling was strangely amusing plus hypnotic. He poked again, giggling. Utterly fascinated by their squishy quality, Zim gleefully continued playing with Gaz's boobies.

"HIYA MASTER! What you doin'?" G.I.R squealed from top of Zim's head.

Recoiling back in horror, Zim grasped the robot and held it out at arm's length. "G.I.R.! What the hell are you doing here!"

"Watching Gaz."

"And why are you watching the Gaz monster? Aren't you supposed to—I dunno, be hanging around the base or something?"

G.I.R. slipped modes, one red eye twitching in frustration as it grumbled, "Sir, you _ordered_ me to watch Gaz."

"Oh, right! I knew that…" Coughing, Zim sat down on the edge of the bed. "So, what's wrong with the Dib-sister?"

"She's sick!" chirped the robot, hopping into his lap. "We was making you a special surprise gift, but first we had to go to TACO-LAND! And then there was this evil scary guy who stabbed me in the head and hurt Pig, but it's okay now cause Gaz helped him in his never-ending quest to save his boyfriend! And then we came home and Gaz went down in basement to finish up your present, but then she fainted and so Dib told me to take care of her while he was gone and that was about a week ago…and then…and then… And then you showed up!"

"Fascinating…" mumbled Zim, half-listening to his minions rapid-fire banter. "Wait. Did you say Gaz was working in the lab?"

"Yeah! Come on!" It grabbed Zim's hand and led him downstairs into the lab. Releasing its grip, G.I.R. smirked and pointed to the spell drives encircling an empty steel gurney.

Zim started toward it but an odd looking envelope on the workbench caught his eye. Curious, he went over and dumped out its contents, rifling through the spill of eldritch texts on soul-transference and robot schematics. He blinked, then re-read the notes in his hand. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place: the weird new evil from Dib, Gaz's odd 'sickness' …

Spewing a stream of Irken obscenities, Zim stormed up the stairs with a very confused G.I.R. tailing along behind him.

"Ain't you happy with your present, Master?"

The alien paused, turning slowly to fix the robot with a crazed grin. "Oh, I'm very happy with it, G.I.R. In fact, I'm so happy with it that I want to thank Gaz _personally_…"

"But she's upstairs sleeping!"

Zim broke into a mad fit of giggles, causing the little robot to stare wide-eyed at him.

"Master's gone crazier than crazy…" whispered G.I.R. to its invisible dust-bunny friends.

Still cackling insanely, Zim ignored his minion's comment and started walking down the street. If his suspicions were correct, Zim was sure that an _imposter_ would realize the first place Dib would probably go if he was looking for the alien was straight to the base, especially if there was any indication Zim was involved in the events resulting in the Dib's coma. And, if he was right about the _who_, Zim felt certain that no manner of lockdown or security measure could even hope to prevent _this_ Dib from getting into his base.

Confirming that assumption, fence and lawn in front of Zim's freakish house was torn with black scorch marks left by laser fire. The front door had been battered open with the decapitated body of a security gnome. Walking into the living room, Zim wasn't surprised to see that it had been thoroughly ransacked. Normally, Zim would have been a little less blasé about such an obvious breach of his carefully crafted security, but something deep within his fleshy guts sensed that whatever had ransacked the base was gone now.

Setting down on the half-destroyed couch, Zim idly reached in-between the cushions and extracted Minimoose from its hiding place.

"Some super-weapon you are…" he sneered, holding the moose up to his face. "The base is attacked and where do I find you? Cowering inside the couch with the crumbs and loose change! You've gotta a hell of a lot of explaining to do, Minimoose!"

"Squeak!"

"What do you mean Skoodge locked me out! And, come to think of it, where _is_ his blubber-butt anyway?"

Wiggling free of Zim's grip, Minimoose hovered past the smashed in television and land on an overturn box. "Squeak."

Zim arched a brow. "Skoodge is hiding in the box? Or did she leave his remains under it?"

"SQUEAK!" Minimoose snapped in frustration.

"Alright! Alright. I'll look in the box…" Picking his way through the debris, Zim picked the box up to find a plastic-wrapped package underneath. He opened warily only to discover that it was a brand-spanking new Irken uniform, dark red-black-violet in the elite military commander style. "Aw, Minimoose! You shouldn't have! But this still doesn't explain why Skoodge left base…."

"Squeak."

There was a pause and blink, then Zim went postal. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN SKOODGE WENT BACK TO IRK! IN MY VOOT CRUISER! AFTER LOCKING DOWN THE BASE! THAT SHIT HAS LEFT ME STRANDED ON THIS FUCKING DIRT-BALL!"

Minimoose calmly shook its tiny head and tried to explain that Skoodge had gone back to pick up the new aide-de-camp and fresh supplies that came with Zim's promotion to General-Adjutant and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Space Marines. Unfortunately, Zim only caught the first half before waving Minimoose off as he started ranting angrily.

"Oh, wonderful! He's coming back in a _year_… With an execution squad, no doubt." Stuffing his new uniform into his PAK, Zim dug up a few pills and choking them down, paced the room. "Well, that still leaves me plenty of time to rebuild the base and prepare a _special_ welcome for them… But onto more important business! COMPUTER! Give me the details on what attacked the base!"

He paused, waiting for a response but when none came, Zim snapped. "COMPUTER! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!"

"Squeak."

"Eh? You mean that filthy _pretender_ damaged the house computer?"

"Squeak..." Minimoose thought about how to phrase the next part of its answer. "Squee…Squeak."

For a minute, all Zim could manage was to gape in confusion. "Surely you can't be serious?"

"Squeak," then the tiny moose added, "Squeak."

"But I didn't call you 'Shirley'."

From the dark recesses of the ceiling, Zim thought he heard something sigh.

"Ah-ha! So you are still online!" roared the alien triumphantly. "Now, do as I command, COMPUTER!"

In a voice that was surlier than usual, the house computer replied, "No."

"No? NO! I am your MASTER! You must OBEY Zim!"

"Look, I don't give a rat's ass who you are! I'm not going to relive the…the **_horror_**…" Somehow, the computer pulled off a shudder. "You can ask anything else from me: Weapons, access to the Massive's controls, all the freakish human porn you want! Name it, it's yours! But don't you ever fucking think of asking about **_that_**…"

"Fine! Then take me to the labs. I must prepare for tonight!"

"Squeak?"

"No, not plot to take-over the world… Well, not _yet_ anyway…" Stepping onto the living room elevator, Zim turned to his minion and laughed. "Tonight, my moosey friend, I'm gonna learn Gaz that it ain't nice to fool the Irken elite…"

A deserted hydroelectric plant, 2:15 the next morning… 

The gates of the industrial lift shrieked from rusted disuse. Each footstep boomed through the blackness as Dib moved up the at catwalk. Ahead in the distance, he saw a shimmer of light—moonlight glinting off the smooth curve of an Irken PAK. A faint hiss of metal cracked the silence when Dib drew the katana from its sheath.

"Hello, Dib." Zim was leaning with his back against the railing when Dib approached. He inclined his head to get a better look out of the smashed open window. "It's a lovely out tonight. I mean, just look at that sky! It's absolutely MAGNIFICENT! The stars are so clear and bright. All you have to do it reach out…" Zim slowly stretched out a claw toward the glittering sky. "…and the entire universe could be _yours_!" He clinched his fist so tightly that the vinyl squealed from the pressure. "I can practically taste the power.…" came the purr as the alien brought his fingers to his mouth. Darting like a long pink worm, Zim coiled his tongue around a fingertip as if to lick captured stardust off them. "And it tastes _delicious_, Dib… Simply _delicious._"

"Keep dreaming, _Zim_." Dib sneered in disgust.

"Admit it," drawled Zim as he lazily turned his head to look at the human. "I know you _want_ it… you want it more than life itself. Because I want it too, Dib. And now I'm giving you the chance to _have_ it." Straightening, he thrust his hand toward the human. "Think of it! There's an empire waiting for you, Dib. At my side, we'll be gods! Gods ruling whole sky full of stars… All you have to do is say 'yes'."

Slapping Zim's hand aside with the flat of the blade, the human growled, "Fuck you, space boy. Now shut up so we can get this over with."

"No," Zim barked, shifting back on his heels with a sarcastic smirk. "No, no, no! And you were doing so well… Coming on so cocky, sword drawn, then mocking my delusions of grandeur…" Folding his arms, he slinked circles around the human with critical eye. "For a second there, it was like having the _real_ Dib back."

"You're a moron."

"Really?" It was a less a question than a challenge. Zim continued circling as he talked. "Yes. I must be a moron to let you continue living in the first place. You're not only threats to my mission, but to my life as well. So doesn't it make you wonder _why_ I continue to keep threats around?"

Dib sighed. "Not really."

"Oh, come on! The Dib would want the answer. He'd also have a little more enthusiasm. Why, I wouldn't even have had to ask him that question! If the real Dib was here, he'd be demanding to know why I won't kill him!"

"Because you're a coward, Zim."

The alien chuckled. "Coward? What an un-Dibby thing to say! He's called me a lot of things over the years: Jerk, bastard, rotten lizard, alien sleaze ball,… But he's never called me a coward. At least, he never said it to my face."

"Your voice annoys me."

"But Dib likes to hear me talk." Zim cooed. "And he knew I liked it when he talked back. Not in those monotone growls of yours, but with a great big counter-rant. Back in the day, he'd always demand to know what evil I was plotting to unleash, then I'd laugh and tell him because all my plans are pure GENIUS! Dib would always shout 'You'll never get away with this, _Zim_!' or some other stupid heroic shit like that, and then we'd fight. That's how our little game played out: Dib, the underdog defender of Earth, and me, the superior Invader from outer space."

"That's stupid, Zim."

"It wasn't stupid to _Dib._ Those games we played together were his _life_." He let the words hang for a moment, shaking around in the shadows. "And they were mine also. That's why I don't want to kill him. That's why, at this very moment, the _real_ Dib—_my _Dib**—**is laying in a coma in his father's lab."

"But I am Dib!"

"No." Zim smiled, hooking a claw under the human's neck. "You're almost real. _Almost. _You _sound_ like Dib. You _look_ like Dib." Drawing his fingers around the neck, Zim let his other hand creep down the fake Dib's side. "You even _feel _like Dib. But you can't fool me anymore, because you never were quite as fun as your big brother…"

Before there was any chance for a reaction, Zim stepped back quickly and slammed his fist through the pretender's body. As he ripped his arm back out, foul purple smoke and globs of violet light poured out from the gaping hole and the cyber-golem's mouth, congealing for a moment into a scream before the mass speed out of the window into the night. Zim watched coldly while the now empty husk decayed into pile of clothing, rust, and melted silicone.


	9. Too Late for Apologies

Wow! Not only haven't I been burned in effigy for the lame plot twist, but you all actually like it! Oh, happy day. Sadly, there will also be about a month long wait for the next chapter as I'll soon be without a computer till the first of June. Apologies in adavance for that downtime.

**Chapter 9: Too Late for Apologies**

Gaz woke up screaming. For a moment there, she was certain that she was going to die but the wrath within her heart gave her the strength to endure. There remained unfinished business and Zim must **_pay_**.

But that didn't mean she couldn't take a short break before going to tear out some alien guts.

Exhausted, Gaz collapsed back onto the pillows and mulled the confrontation over. Surely Zim couldn't have figured out it was her animating the Dib golem. He wasn't supposed to be _that_ smart. But she'd pretty much left his base computer a sniveling pile of terrified A.I., so Zim couldn't have gotten information there. As much as she grudgingly like G.I.R., Gaz had known from the beginning that the little robot would tell its master anything it learned and had gone to great lengths to keep G.I.R. from founding out her plans.

Could it have been the golem itself? No. She'd made damn sure that it was an exact duplicate of Dib, from every stupid piece of hair right down to her brother's annoying voice. It was so perfect a copy that Gaz felt more than a little creeped out just looking at the thing. When she had taken possession of it, Gaz thought she was acting just like Dib would: Hunt Zim down like a dog and carve him into tiny Zim-pieces.

So why the hell was Zim coming on like a drunken cheerleader? If she'd been Dib—wait—she _had_ been Dib at the time… And Gaz did what she believed Dib would have done, which was to want his slimy green splattered across the countryside. She knew her brother had a major hard-on for the alien, but she felt pretty sure that Dib wouldn't forget his dumb duty to protect Earth for a cheap fuck. Besides, weren't they _supposed_ to be enemies!

Then the offer rang through her thoughts.

"_There's an empire waiting for you… At my side, we'll be gods…"_

Gaz wanted to believe that it was just another one of Zim's tricks, a distraction. If that was all, then why did it sound so sincere? Never before had she experienced Zim being so frank, so recklessly honest. Remembering the deranged yet hopeful look in his eyes matched with such a strange mixture of hatred and respect in the alien's voice left Gaz stunned.

The stupid bastard was fucking _serious_! Zim really believed that Dib—the real one…the Dib he'd damn neared _murdered_—that her brother would forsake everything—EVERY-FUCKING-THING he'd worked for since he'd been in diapers— just to be with Zim!

"Dirty old man…" Gaz sneered, swinging herself up and out of bed. She slide off her pajamas and shuffled stiffly over to the closet. Glancing in the mirror hung up behind the door, she caught a glimpse of a red scratch mark on her breast. Gaz whipped around and soon saw that her chest was completely covered in scratches and deep, three-fingered bruises. In rage and disgust, she hurriedly dressed and jerked out the .44 revolver kept hidden under a loose floorboard. It had been a birthday present from her darling cousin Pepito, for any "personal business" she might have. And Zim had just made things very _personal_ indeed.

Stashing it in her waist band, Gaz grabbed up her keys and her baseball bat. She had her hand on the doorknob when someone rang the bell. She froze, waiting for whoever it was to just leave, but after the fifth buzz Gaz wrenched it open with a death glare.

"Sorryforwakingyouatsuchagodawfulhourbutisthisyourdog?" came the rapid squeak as a pair of hands thrust G.I.R. in her face, its dog suit coated in a sticky layer of candied muck.

Growling, Gaz grabbed the grinning robot by the scruff of its neck and stared down the kid standing rather uneasily on the front step. He was scrawny and dressed like a convenience store clerk, which was rather odd since he looked a barely fifteen, the same age as her. Then a spark of recognition hit her.

"Hey, you're that guy from Mexico... Squee, right?"

"Yah, and you're that girl with the knife…Gaz…"

G.I.R. wriggled out of Gaz's grip and squished off into the house, leaving them to stare at each other in an awkward state of silence. Finally, the silence broke in a pair of nervous coughs.

"Um, I've gotta go kill somebody…" Gaz muttered, sliding past Squee and quickly clambered into the car.

She seriously expected see him fleeing down the street like any sane person would have, but he was still there, calmly watching her as she whipped out of the driveway and raced down the deserted streets. But that oddness was soon forgotten as she sped up the twisting back-roads to finish off Zim, keeping pace with the thick black storm billowing across the star-splattered sky.

Pulling up to the plant's entrance, Gaz readied herself for anything Zim may have planned. She started for the doors but when a sudden shadow darting over the dam caught her eye, Gaz turned and quietly made her way out onto the exterior catwalk. Halfway out over the water with the metal groaning under her weight, she paused for breath and chanced a look up.

In a small boom of lightning, she saw Zim perched on top of a nearby pylon, staring at her with an annoyed frown.

"You're late," he yawned, lightly hopping to his feet.

"RAGH!" Enraged, Gaz grabbed a piece of pipe lying near her foot and hurled it toward the alien. To her shock, Zim caught it in one hand and easily twisted the pipe into a knot before tossing it back.

"This best you got? You're not even trying!" He reared back then leapt off the pylon. The catwalk rattled dangerously when he landed. "I _know_ you can do better than that… "

Whipping out the revolver, Gaz blindly fired but only managed to graze Zim's shoulder before the gun jammed. "Fuck!" She chucked it aside and lunged for Zim wielding her baseball bat. Metal groaned and shuddered dangerously while Gaz attacked the alien dodging her blows. Still, she did manage to land a few good hits and shatter three of his spider legs in the process. Raging now beyond the point of madness, she swung as hard as she possibly could for Zim's smirking face only to have him grab hold and use the force to spin her off balance. Gaz ended up flipping over the thin railing into a swift fall toward the murky reservoir below, but right before she hit the water a set of tentacles wrapped tightly around her body. She kicked and struggled as Zim dragged her back up.

"Now this is the Gaz I remember!" sniped the alien, leaning right in her face. "Vindictive, stubborn, and with one hell of an anger management problem… So, how does it feel knowing that you PATHETIC plans of vengeance have ended in utter failure? Of course, you should have expected that, little Gaz. You do realize that you never had a chance at defeating the likes of me. Why, I saw through your miserable Dib-bot the very moment you conceived it! Because you see Gaz, no matter what you try, no matter how bloodthirsty your plots, no matter how evil you become, you'll never be my rival."

"Look, if you want to torture me, rape me, kill me, do it!" Gaz hissed. "But if this gloating shit continues just shoot me now please."

Zim stared at her oddly. "Rape you? Ha! Don't flatter yourself, human. I wouldn't touch you even if I was ordered to."

"Then why were you feeling me up?"

"LIES! I never 'felt' anything of your disgusting body!" Zim shrieked, shaking her violently. "Besides, even if I did do such a thing—which I would NEVER do— you have no proof."

She half-opened one eye. "There're bruises on my chest, you're a xenophiliac pervert on a powertrip, and G.I.R. couldn't guard a paper bag. That enough proof for you, asshole?"

Zim glared at her then angrily chucked Gaz back onto the catwalk. When she started to get up, he deployed his remaining spider leg and pinned her. He knelt down next to her with an odd grin on his face.

"Tell me something, Gaz," Zim asked in a cracking voice. "How well do you know Dib?"

Gaz glared up at the alien, a little confused by the sudden shift in conversation, then spat, "Better than you ever will."

"Really?" He chuckled a little. "Then I suppose you knew that the **_girl _**was a sexbot, right Gaz? I only found that out after I ripped her open and found that she was…eh, 'fully-functional'." Zim paused, letting the implications sink in. "You look a bit surprised, Gaz. If you know your brother so well, then why didn't you notice how miserable he had become? Come to think of it, can you even remember the last time you talked with Dib? What was the last thing he said to you? Come on! Tell me. I'd really like to know, Gaz. Oh, and please be honest or else…" He pressed the point a little harder into her stomach.

Gaz stared blankly at the alien. Practically half a year had gone by since she and Dib had last spoken to each other, and then it was a short and brutish argument about her brother's fucking hang-ups. She remembered everything that had been said, especially Dib's slip about Zim.

"Why do you care?" she hissed.

"That's what you said?"

"No. I'm asking _you_ a question, Zim." If there hadn't been the threat of immediate impalement, Gaz probably would have slapped him for being stupid. "So, why the fuck do you care about what Dib did or said? You're enemies, right? It shouldn't matter to you who or what he was fucking around with."

Zim suddenly began laughing so hard that he fell back against the railing.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Gaz leapt to her feet but halted dealing out the righteous fury when she noticed the ominous way the catwalk shook beneath them. For the first time, she noticed how rusted and decrepit the metal holding them was. In fact, it was a miracle that the catwalk hadn't collapsed the moment she had stepped on it.

"Uh, could we hurry this up?" she barked suddenly, eager to move the fight to stable ground.

Hauling himself up, the alien finally got control of himself and grinned nastily at her. "Oh, poor stupid little Gaz. You just don't get it, do you? If you want to play the game, you have to follow the rules. And Rule no.1 is that we do not rush the witty repartee."

"Fine." She winced as the catwalk shuddered under foot. "We're done bantering. Now could you shut up and fight?"

"Silly girly-girl," he chuckled, moving toward her in a nerve jarring stomp. "I still have to answer your question. You do want an answer, don't you?"

"Look, just forgot it! I don't give a damn why you're so interested in Dib!"

"But you asked me a _question_, Gaz! It's only fair that I give you _answers_…" Barely inches separated Zim from Gaz. "Now, you wanted to know why I _care_ so much about the **_Dib_**? You really want to know?" He paused, leaning in smiling crazily and tears welling up in his twitching eye. "Because I've fallen—"

Without warning, the catwalk snapped apart, sending both Gaz and Zim plunging toward a watery death. In a feat of comic book-style luck, Gaz manages to grab hold of a dangling piece of railing with her left hand while Zim locked her other arm in a death grip.

"Dammit! Let go, you bastard!" she roared as she strained to hang on.

"Like hell!" came the ever clever retort as Zim dug his claws deeper into her arm.

Summoning up an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, Gaz pulled herself up just enough to wrap her legs around the railing like a hell-spawned koala while it bucked and twisted in a fierce gust of wind. She strained to keep her grip while Zim's weight began to pull her arm out of socket. "Why don't you just climb up already!" snarled Gaz in frustration.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that!" the alien hissed back. "If I let go, I'll fall!"

"Can't you use those tentacles of yours, dumbass!"

"Oh, right! I forgot I had those…" Seizing upon her suggestion, Zim deployed the tentacles and completely bound the lower half of Gaz's arm to his. "Now there's no way for you to escape!"

The railing sank lower under the weight.

"You fucking jerk! You're going to kill both of us!"

"That's the idea, Gaz!" Zim laughed.

Gaz stared for a moment at the madness smiling up at her, and then pulled out the knife hidden in her sleeve. Without hesitation, she reared back and started frantically slicing at her elbow until the flesh ripped apart. Her screams of pain wear drowned out by the shrieking wind and Zim's roaring laughter as he plunged into the water. With one last shudder, the railing finally gave way and sent Gaz into what she thought would be her last free fall.

She never expected someone to swing out from nowhere and catch her just in the nick of time.

"…fuck!" gasped the mysterious hero as he landed on the ledge and twisted his ankle. He managed to keep hold of Gaz and, hopping on his good foot, lean her up against the wall. Muttering reassurances that "everything will be okay" and "I'll get you to a hospital", the mysterious hero clumsily ripped apart his work shirt to bandage her arm.

Through the swooning haze brought on by beginnings of shock, Gaz forced a smile. "Squee…?" she murmured before blacking out.

_A week later… _

G.I.R. cheerfully rode its newly jacked breakfast cart full speed down the hall until it crashed through the door to Gaz's room. The little robot lay sprawled out on the floor where it had fallen in a mess of hospital food, giggling madly.

Gaz never looked up from the GameSlave2, still trying to get use to her new bionic hand, but she let out a bemused groan. Aside from catching up on a backlog of video games, G.I.R.'s moronic antics were the only enjoyable thing in her life lately. She gave up on her 'physical therapy' and turned to watch the crazy metal fool.

"Mornin', Gaz! I've gots eggs in my brain!" came the chirp as G.I.R. scooped a large handful of yellow scrambled glop off its face before shoving the wad into its mouth. "You wants to eat my brains?"

"No. But thanks for offering." She settled back into the rather overstuffed bed. "Anything new going on outside?"

"Yeah! Lots and lots of stuff! Like, there's a new squirrel in the yard that eats the beagles with the creamy-creamy cheese, and the monkey was dancing with the magical wienies yesterday, and that boy that's all squeaky gave me bunches of free Brainfreezies…oh, and Master sent you this!" Reaching into its head, G.I.R. pulled out a flat panel screen bearing a smiling Irken logo and handed it over to Gaz.

"Is it a bomb?" Gaz muttered as she studied the panel warily.

The robot simply shrugged, then pulled out its piggy.

"Hey G.I.R., do you mind getting me a soda? Dad still being stupid and won't let me leave the room, but since the only decent vending machine is all the way downstairs…"

"As you wish, sir!" barked the robot as it leapt into duty mode and barreled out on a new mission.

Satisfied that G.I.R. is safely out of earshot, Gaz clicked the screen on and was greeted by a smirking if extremely haggard looking Zim.

"Ah, so we met again, Gaz-beast!" he blusters then starts hacking abruptly. Breathless, he continues with his posturing. "As you can see, not only did I survive our last battle but I am thriving. While you have been laying back in you filthy glut of victory, I have been busily working on a new plan that is so wicked, so brilliantly diabolical that your pathetic brains shall implode from the AWESOMENESS of my evil genius! BEHOLD!"

Running over to a sheet covered pedestal, Zim wipes away the covering to reveal…

"A Tickle-me-Hellmo?" Gaz hisses, cracking open one eye.

Zim puffed up with pride. "Yes! I plan on selling these disgusting doll-monsters to the frolicking dirt-children."

"And that's your master plan? Exploiting moronic toy fads?"

"Oh, you mock me now, little Gaz! But, when the human children go to probe Hellmo ticklish belly meats, they'll trigger the miniature nuclear greavelven device hidden inside! Once the devices are activated, the resultant explosions shall set off a series of catastrophic earthquakes which will shatter the Earth into a billon chunks of space garbage!"

"That plan is stupid."

"Eh! How can that be!" shrieked Zim as he grabbed up the hideous toy icon. "You humans love the TICKLE-ME-HELLMO DOLL!"

Gaz rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it was pretty popular… Five years ago. Nowadays, you can't give those fucking things away."

He glared at her then at the doll in his hands, shifting back and forth several beats. "So, you're saying that none of the dirt children want these things?"

"Yeah."

"And that they won't poke its belly meats to trigger the explosions?"

"That's what I said."

Letting out an angry huff, Zim chucked the Hellmo over his shoulder. "Clever, Gaz. Keep this up, and someday you might be as worthy an adversary as your brother…"

"Fuck that." Gaz snapped. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you turn me into a fucking replacement for Dib!"

"Ha! You, an equal to the Dib! As if you could ever fill his enormous head-space!"

"Okay, there's just so much grammatically wrong with that it's not even funny, Zim."

The alien sneered. "Well excuse me! The Earther upgrade wasn't exactly standard for my translator."

"It's called English, dumb fuck. Got anything else?"

"Not really… Wait! I do have something to say!" Grinning broadly, Zim wiped an invitation out of his PAK and waved it triumphantly in front of the camera. "I am taking Keef to this PROM ritual. You'll note that participating in this primitive rite of passage with a 'date' is the only you pathetic humans can prove your worth within your horrible society. And, seeing that you remain 'single', this means that I am once again VICTORIOUS. You see, Gaz, you may have won the battle, but it is Zim who has won the war!"

Gaz stared at him like he was a total moron. "You're prom date is _Keef_? Zim, do you realize what's going to happen when you show up with a guy?"

"I know, I know. I'll have to put up with an evening's worth of Keef's stupid romantics, but it's worth it to keep up my MAGNIFICENT cover as yet another dumb worm-boy."

Gaz started to tell Zim that football team would lynch him in a fit of self-loathing and homophobia, but then she realized that this was _Zim_ she was talking too and no amount of logic could hope to penetrate his thickened ignorance of human society. Instead, she shrugged. "I really don't give a shit about the prom, Zim. Now, if you don't have something _important_ to say, there's a stack of _Bloody Gutzenstein Ultra_ waiting from me and I'd like to get back to my game…"

"Very well, Gaz." Zim rasped threateningly. "Play your games. But know that by the time you finish with your digital rampage that I shall have conquered the UNIVERSE and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"Whatever." With that, she turned off the screen and cramped it under her mattress right as her father came waltzing into the room.

"Greetings, daughter! How are you feeling today?" asked Professor Membrane, busily checking the status read-outs next to her bed.

"Fine, dad. My fingers are still a bit stiff though." She held up her bionic hand and flexed to show him.

"Don't worry, daughter. You'll soon get use to it." Satisfied with the read-outs, he glances at the crashed breakfast cart. "I take that green doggie friend of yours was here again."

Gaz sighed. "For the last time, dad, G.I.R. isn't a dog. He's the robotic minion of Zim."

"You mean that animal belongs to Zim. That green foreign boy, right?"

"Try 'Zim, that stupid fucking alien'."

Letting loose a manly chuckle, Membrane patted Gaz's head. "Now, now daughter… Don't you start talking all crazy like your brother used to do."

"By the way," she grumbled, ducking away from the parental affection. "How is Dib?"

"He's…alive…" sighed Membrane, drooping a little at the thought of his poor, insane, and still comatose son. Then he snapped up in a burst of excitement. "But don't worry, daughter of mine! Soon I'll your brother back on his feet and just as good as ever, thanks to the power of SCIENCE!"

"Dad, are you going to use Dib as a human guinea pig again?"

The professor laughed off the comment. "Of course not, sweetie. All I plan on doing is using the highly experimental telepathic transporter machine to enter you brother's **_enormous_** head and find out what's within his twisted psyche is keeping him from returning to consciousness. Heck, maybe while I'm in there I can add some pleasant memories of SCIENCE to encourage your brother to give up his crazy paranormal studies."

"Eh, dad… I don't think that's such a good idea…"

"Nonsense! I assure you that all the tests came back showing that the probability of a complete and utter disaster was a paltry ninety-six percent. Now, get some rest daughter and all of us-you, I, and your soon-to-be sane brother- will be having a nice family dinner at Bloaty's again in no time!" At that, Membrane leapt out the door and bounded down the hallway like a lab-coated gazelle.

G.I.R. squealed and waved at the professor as he sped past, oblivious to the fact that the robot was carrying an entire vending machine toward Gaz's room. When it finally reached her, Gaz had already gotten dressed and packed up her GameSlave2 gear.

"G.I.R. we have to leave. **_Now_**."

"But the soda…" It pointed at the vending machine sadly.

Gaz growled. "Don't worry about it. We'll grab something on the way to my cousin's."

Cheered by prospect of getting take-out, G.I.R. happily latched onto Gaz's back as she quickly walked out of the room and bolted down the stairs. They had gone about three and a half blocks away from the lab when the first explosions rocked the city.

Wincing, Gaz decided not to glance back at the slowly rising mushroom cloud behind her and instead sped up her pace. Spending a few days in Pepito's demonic company would be a thousand times safer than being anywhere within a four mile radius of Dib right now.


	10. Jackboot Stomp and Electric Head

And now, after only nine freaking chapters, Dib finally wakes up! Oh crude irony, how I love you… Blame any freakiness in this chapter on a combination of Pink Floyd's _The Wall_ and various White Zombie albums.

**Chapter 10: Jackboot Stomp and Electric Head**

Following the gurney down the clinically white hallway, Professor Membrane could feel his throat clench dryly as if he was about to have another attack despite the humidified epinephrine mist. Maybe it was the realization of just how dangerous yet vital this procedure was going to be. His colleagues had kept telling him that it was _madness_ to try reawakening the boy this way and that entering his son's already overwrought psyche would likely kill one or both of them. But he disregarded their warnings of doom because it was the only chance he had left to save his (insane) son, barring some kind of miracle… And, as a man of SCIENCE, Membrane didn't believe in miracles. By G-d and Hans Berger, he was going to save his son from being a vegetable or die trying.

Membrane lent a hand as the technicians lifted his son into the one of the two transferal chambers and hooked the boy up. Satisfied that everything was in place, he closed the lid. Taking off his coat and boots, Membrane turned to his ever-faithful assistant.

"Simmons, if I don't make it, I just want you to know that I …" The professor's voice trailed off in an uncharacteristic choking of emotion.

"I know, sir. I know," whispered Simmons as he took the clothes aside and helped Membrane into the other chamber. "Ready?"

Membrane nodded, watching Simmons hurry over to the rest of the team in the control room. The lid snapped closed and the machine began humming as it powered up, surging with power.

Without warning, the room lurched around and around and around in a spiral of blurry psychedelic imagery as Membrane felt himself being thrown headlong into an astral whirlpool. Then, just as suddenly as it all began, the spinning psychic acid-trip stopped and the professor was surprised to see that he was still lying in the lab.

Once he was sure that his organs weren't liquefied, Membrane sat up with a cruse.

"FAILURE!" he roared, waving his fists dramatically. "Months of research, construction, and testing in the endeavor to save my only son… all this epic effort to end in a horrific malfunction! I have saved world a thousand times over through the power of SCIENCE only have it fail me! Why! Has my G-d forsaken me for years of tampering in HIS realm! Oh, cruel fate, must my son suffer for—Hey! I don't remember building _that_."

Dropping out of drama queen mode, Membrane furtive glanced around at the bizarre chamber he was standing in. While there was a superficial resemblance to the Telepathic Transference Chamber he built, the professor was pretty certain that the architecture hadn't resembled something from Geiger's worse nightmares. There was a sticky, ozone tang to the air that made breathing even harder than usual. And why was everything so dark?

Membrane made his way toward the control room, taking pains not to touch the slimy-looking walls. Tentatively, he shoved the door open and flinched slightly at the sight before him. To a lay person, the sight of half-rotted mutant skeletons would be the stuff that traumatic stress disorders are made of, but Professor Membrane had seen things far, far worse than this during his college years and later internship with Dr. Merkwürdigliebe. Doing what any **_real_** scientist would do when faced by mysteriously dead corpses, Membrane immediately began investigating how these creatures died.

"Hmm… It appears that whatever killed them possessed gigantic ripping claws and fangs. And, judging by the teeth marks, this killer most possess a ravenous hunger for LIVING FLESH! Therefore, I must be on guard, lest I too am consumed by this unknown monstrous entity." He paused then added. "And I really need to stop talking aloud to myself…"

"Meef?"

Whirling on his heels, Membrane readied himself to face the monster only to find that he was staring down the most obscenely cute bundle of fluff since Tribbles. Hypnotized by its wide red eyes and adorably twitchy antennae, the professor leaned over to pick up the fluffy little green critter. It was fortunate that Membrane had kept the critter at arms length because it soon shrieked with demonic laughter, sprouting a leech-like maw and terribly sharp spider legs. He hurled it across the room and bolted out onto a narrow ramp over a vast chasm, glancing back to see thousands of red-eyed fluff monsters scurrying in pursuit.

As he ran blindly from the tittering horde, Membrane became aware of the fact that the chasm was filled by infernal engines that rumbled and sparked hellish arches of blue-white lightning all around. He stumbled once, but managed to fight the monsters off and continue fleeing. That is, he fled until the walkway ended suddenly right above the gaping maw of what could have been the Devil's own meat-grinder. Then again, Membrane was pretty sure his uncle-in-law didn't have a grinder _that_ big.

Shaking off the stupid A.D.D. moment, the professor turned to face the horde of monsters closing in on him. He glanced back and forth between the monsters and the grinder, unable to decide which would be the quickest death.

"No! I cannot give up now!" Membrane barked, seized by a surge of heroic duty. "My son _needs_ me!"

Hearten by the desire to finally be there for his boy, Membrane leapt from the ledge followed by the chattering horde, grabbing onto a chain just in the nick of time. He clung to the chain, causally flicking off the last fluff monster into the grinder as he rose higher and higher through the hall. When Membrane saw another walkway, he jumped onto it. Kneeling down for a second, Membrane tried to catch his breath and figure just where the fudge he was but the respite soon ended when he noticed that the walkway was _moving_. To add to the unpleasantness, the professor saw that he was being drawn toward the spike-ridden jaws of a ghastly compaction device.

"Oh shit."

Membrane began running frantically against the conveyor but it was futile. When he was barely inches away from messy, crushing death a wickedly curved meat-hook swung past and he snagged hold of it, thereby yanking victory from the jaws of doom. Sadly, it seems that the hook he was riding just happened to also be carrying Membrane straight into the whirring blades of diabolically wicked chainsaw tunnel.

Screaming like a girly man, the professor released his grip on the hook and tumbled through the frightful maze of energy blast, razor chains, and crunching gears. It was by a blind stroke of dumb luck that Membrane managed to catch himself on the edge of tunnel and scurry into its relative safety.

"Good Lord! This place is trying to kill me!" he panted, staring out at the horrible dance of mechanical mayhem, and then a realization struck him. "Of course! The existence of those freakish death traps must be the personifications of my son's mental defense mechanisms and the horrible little monsters are his latent insanities! And if that's the case, then I must be inside the boy's demented mind! The telepathic transference machine was a SUCCESS!—WHAP!—Ouch!"

Rubbing his head, Membrane wondered why his son couldn't envision a wider tunnel. The further he crept, the narrower and dirtier the tunnel became until the professor found himself crawling along on his belly in the greasy muck. At last, he saw a glimmer of light from four holes in some sort of panel ahead of him and, with a mighty heave Membrane soon clambered out of what appeared to be a sewer manhole.

Slightly annoyed by the filth coating his pristinely bleached lab coat, the professor got to his feet and was shocked to discovery that he was now standing on the sidewalk before the most repulsive looking porn store he'd ever imagined. He glanced up and down the street, desperate to find a piece of decency but his shock and disgust increased when he found that all there was were shooting galleries, strip joints, gay bars, and other sordid businesses as far as the eye could see. The only people he saw were a revolting grab-bag of hookers, pimps, dealers, and assorted other lowlifes, all looking twisted mockeries of humanity. Here and there, Membrane could swear he recognized some of his son's school mates amongst the leering streetwalkers. He noticed that some of them were eyeing him with beady predatory grins and decided to risk further harming his delicate sensibilities by going into the store instead of waiting stupidly to be pounced upon by the demons of his son's id.

He was only mildly relieved to find that the store's interior wasn't half as repugnant as its exterior thanks to the flickering dim light bulb. Membrane edged around the display cases and bookshelves, carefully stepping over a large red cat sleeping on the floor as he made his way toward the clerk squatting on a stool behind the back counter. The clerk, a demented looking Chihuahua dog wearing a name badge that said "Ren Hoëk", smiled greasily at him

"Eh… pardon me, sir."

"Ah… We've been waiting for you," oozed Ren in his freakiest Peter Lorre voice. He slid a key across the grimy countertop. "Room 2113, the big black door at the very end."

"Uh, thank you?" Membrane muttered, taking the key and moving down the dingy little hallway. He did his best not to mind the stenches or noises coming from other doors, but the professor was nearly to the point of fleeing for the moral high ground when at last he reached the massive black door with a tarnished '2113' on it. Bracing himself for whatever depravity, he flung open the door.

To Membrane's surprise, it was just a plain little room with a chair and table and rough brick walls. There was a screen on the wall facing the chair and a quaintly old-fashioned film projector on the table. Breathing a sigh of relief, he sank into the chair.

And then the projector sputtered to life.

The film seemed to be a vintage black-and-white short from the 1950's. It was a little disturbing when he noticed the title card was almost same as his own show, except that it was…well, _spookier_. He grew even more annoyed when the scene shifted to a nightmarish version of his own laboratory. Then an announcer came on.

"Welcome to another spooky episode of **_Probing the NIGHTMARISH Membrane of SCIENCE_**! With your spooky host, Professor Membrane!"

The real Membrane frowned as he watched his SPOOKY alter ego float on screen. "Is that what my son _really _thinks of me! I don't have freaky metal claws! But that lab coat is kinda neat…"

Getting over his indignation at how Dib represented him, Membrane went back to listening to the Nightmare-Membrane lecture.

"Today is truly a monumental day in SCIENCE!" proclaimed Nightmare Membrane. "For today we shall finally be able to cleanse away the _insanity_ of those poor pathetic creatures lurking on the very edge of society. No longer will they be the dredges of society but instead become productive and happy citizens! By means of the machine behind me," Nightmare Membrane gestured at the terrible device which, the real Membrane noted with mounting horror, was an eviler copy of his own Telepathic Transferal Chamber. "I shall enter the mind of an _INSANE_ patient and, through careful manipulation of his psyche, rearrange him till he's sane! Now, let's bring out our first victim!"

On cue, a pair of burly monster orderlies carried in a misshaped lump bound up in a straightjacket. To Membrane's terrified shock, the lumpy creature they were tossing into one of the pods looked like his son, but he didn't have much time to think about the implications of this because as soon as the Nightmare Dib was in place, the Nightmare Membrane had entered his own pod and the machine roared to life.

It wasn't much of surprise when the machine overloaded and a titanic explosion ripped through the lab. In the middle of all the smoke and sparks emerge the shadow of a young man. He walked in a slow, stately march toward the camera as a peal of music swelled. The smoke began to waft away, revealing the brilliant crimson of stage curtains and the even bloodier red of a gargantuan banner that bore the strange, triangular symbol that Did was always trying to tell his father belong to an evil alien empire. The shadowy young man stepped up to a banner-draped podium to address the crowded auditorium.

"_So ya thought ya might like to go to the show…" _sweetly purred the young man as he looked around the room. "_To feel that warm thrill of Confusion, that space cadet glow."_ The young man chuckled, his glasses gleaming like white holes. "_I've got some bad news for you, sunshine: Dib isn't well, he stayed back at the hotel. So they sent me along as a surrogate band"_ Lurking forward suddenly, the young man turned out to be the Nightmare Dib, transformed from a lumpy little monster into a frightening uniformed dictator. "_We're going to find out where you fans really stand!"_

Snapping back upright, Nightmare Dib smiled evilly. "_Are there any queers in the theatre tonight? Get 'em up against the wall!"_ A spotlight appeared and singled out Keef from the audience. _"Now there's one in the spotlight! He don't look right to me. Get him up against the wall!"_

At his command, several gas-mask wearing troopers leapt into the audience and dragged Keef off. But Nightmare Dib wasn't finished yet.

"_That one looks Jewish!"_ he shrieked, pointing out Brian with the spotlight so the troopers could grab him too. Nightmare Dib's accusing finger snapped toward the other side of the room as he shouted, "_And that one's a coon!"_

Lit up in the spotlight, Aki, Smeedge, and the Letter M looked at each in outrage.

"Oh no he didn't!" Smeedge barked.

But, instead of grabbing the girls or the Letter M, the troopers grabbed Raccoon Kid who was cowering behind them.

"_Who let all this riff raff into the room!" _roared Nightmare Did while the spotlight whipped away, landing right on Carl as he took another toke. "_There's one smoking a joint! And another with spots!" _Feed up with just singling them out one by one, Nightmare Dib raised his hands and screamed, "_If I had my way, I'd have all of you shot!"_

With that, more troopers pounded into the auditorium and began firing machine guns into the crowd. Above the screams of the dying and the rattle of automatic fire, Nightmare Dib howled madly with laughter.

"**_STOP!_**" Frantically, Membrane tore at the screen to reveal a gapping hole in the wall. He glanced at the still running projector, then down the tunnel before him.

Membrane tripped and stumbled his way down the tunnel, groping through the darkness until he came to yet another door. It was a door that reminded him of a prison cell.

Half-expecting it to be locked, the professor shoved back the latches and the door swung inward with a rusted groan. He stepped inside, blinking in a daze at the glaring whiteness of light and canvas padding. Once his eyes had adjusted to the brightness, Membrane could make out _something_ huddle in the far corner, scribbling furiously away at the wall.

"I'm not crazy… I'm not crazy… I'm not crazy…" chanted the scribbler over and over as it wrote that phrase in spider red marks all over the white walls.

Membrane walked slowly toward the scribbler and gently reached out to it. "Son?"

With a bloodcurdling scream, the scribbler turned on him, its jagged pink teeth and pupil-less red eyes twisting into a mask of rage on an inhuman face of green. Membrane never saw the flashing silver leg claws before they stabbed through his body.

The control room was in absolute pandemonium as sparks and smoke filled the transferal room. Technicians and lab assistants ran around wildly, trying to escape from the impending disaster.

"Professor Membrane! PROFESSOR MEMBRANE MABUSE!" Simmons shouted, fighting his way through the panic throng to rescue his boss. With extra-cheesy sci-fi heroics, he wrenched the unconscious professor from the transferal chamber and carried him to the safety of one of the many failed experiment fall-out shelters milliseconds before the telepathic transferal machine went up in a quantum blast.

Huffing and wheezing behind his respirator mask, Membrane slowly swooned back to consciousness still clutched tightly in the arms of his assistant. For a second, he lay like that and then he noticed the funny looks the rest of the staff gave them.

"Thank you, Simmons," the professor grumbled icily, staggering to his feet and looking around the shelter. "Where's my boy? Is he alright?"

There were some sad murmurs and shuffled feet before Simmons spoke up. "Uh, sir, we sort of left him behind…"

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'LEFT HIM BEHIND'!" roared the long suppressed parental feelings in Membrane. "YOU BASTARDS LEFT MY SON TO DIE IN THAT EXPLOSION!"

"Now, be reasonable, sir!" Simmons stammered. "The boy was as good as dead already…"

Before anyone could stop him, Membrane flung Simmons across the room with a blast of psychic energy and charged madly out of the shelter. He clambered over the rubble in a crazed search for his poor son. Cresting a small heap of blasted machinery, Membrane saw a sight that made his analytical heart leap with joy.

Standing unharmed and fully awake at the epicenter of the explosion crater was Dib. The boy's back was turned and he seemed to be staring off into the sky.

Shouting happily, the professor slide down the crater wall and ran to embrace his boy. It came as horrendous shock to him when Dib spun gracefully on his toes and delivered a roundhouse punch straight to Membrane's face. He went sprawling to the dirt as his mask shattered apart in a spray of plastic and blood. Membrane gasped in the painfully dust polluted air and looked up at his son in disbelief.

Unconcerned for his father's desperate gasps, Dib turned his back on the helpless professor and telekinetically summoned up Membrane's badly charred lab coat and the scuffed boots. Putting them on, he took one last, bitter glance over his shoulder at nearly dead Membrane.

"He should've let me die." Dib started to walk away, smiling darkly. "Yes, Zim. You should've let me die."

(a/n: You were all just bricks in the wall.)


	11. Am I Not The Enemy?

"hiatus: n. 1)A gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break."  
Seeingthat my situation leaves me now with the chance to type, I've pulled myself out of the "technical" slump to give you all the next chapter. It's ancient (we're talking 'Word97'...) and no internet, so expect updates to be…sporadic at best.

**Chapter 11:** **Am I Not The Enemy?**

In the darkness of the living room, the TV screen buzzing with snow cast a ghostly glow across a rumpled, dirty lab coat discarded on the couch and pieces of kitsch Membrane memorabilia shattered on the floor. The trail of broken glass winded into a kitchen that had been stripped nearly bare from wild eating binges. Up from the bowels of the lab adjoining the kitchen came a blasting refrain of music, punctuated every so often by the scrape of tools or a sharp curse.

The lab was trashed while looking for the parts he needed, finally finding them in a box of discarded wire and spare parts. Despite still being shaky from his very rude awakening, Dib felt well enough to do this alone. It wasn't like installing a bionic eyeball involved brain surgery…

"Fuck!" The clamp clattered across the workbench, skidding to a stop by the make-up mirror as Dib took a moment to recover from clipping the first bunch of raw nerves together. Steadying himself, he continued the agonizing process until each little bundle was firmly hooked up, and to his relief, fully functional. Popping the new eye into its socket, Dib glanced at his face in the mirror.

Red… Out of all the bionic eyes in that damn box, Dib had grabbed the only one that was completely and utterly red. And in that noxious fluorescent light, it possessed a certain evil glint, which went too well with the washed-out greenish tinge of his skin.

He giggled a bit strangely, then reared back and shattered the mirror into itty-bitty pieces. The bits of glass now stuck in the back of his hand were barely noticed by Dib as he shambled snickering upstairs. Pausing briefly by the kitchen table, he snapped up a notepad his sister had left lying on his desk, flipping through the abrupt scrawl of notes she'd taken with a fresh set of giggles.

"Thank you Gaz… Oh, thank you very much…" came the off-pitch chuckle as he reread the last note she had taken down before reeling into the living room for the coat and out the front door.

- - - -

"…and you came here—willingly—because Dib's finally snapped?" Pepito murmured, taking a drag off his cigar.

"Yes. Now would you quit bugging me? I have four levels left before I beat this game," growled Gaz as she passionately cleared out every single enemy on the screen. She only blinked when her _darling_ cousin huffed smoke in her face. Pausing at a save point, she turned her baleful glare at him. "You do know I'm going to kill you for that."

He just smiled.

"I've already told you everything I know."

"Oh, I know." Leaning forward, Pepito 'playfully' patted her chest. "It's just that, since you started filling out, I've suddenly began to miss the, ah…pleasure of your company."

She half-opened an eye. "Unless you want me to tear those horns out of your skull, don't ever grope me again."

"You never know… I might be into that sort of thing."

"That's sick, even for you."

He smiled again, settling down beside her. After watching Gaz hack and slash through a few hordes of 8-bit goblins, Pepito spoke up. "How high do you think the body count will get this time?"

"On this level?"

"No, Dib's."

Gaz shrugged. "I'm saying one idiot alien and some major property damage."

The smile broadened. "Are you certain about that?"

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to wager, say, your eternal soul on that outcome?"

"No."

His smile vanished. "Damn."

Saving one last time, Gaz cut her GameSlave2 off and glared at her cousin. "Okay. There's obviously something about my brother that you're not telling me, so just say it and I won't have to tear you're spleen out."

"There's nothing to say." Pepito laughed, smirking. "It's just that I find it strange that Dib used to spend so much time stalking—excuse me—'observing' this Zim guy before simply ignoring the little green weirdo for the last four years…"

"Five. But neither one of them quit stalking the other." She sighed in annoyance. "It's just that Zim and Dib both too stupid to admit that these games they've play aren't some dumb playground rivalry anymore."

Pepito snickered. "So I was right about Dib being gayer than pink ink on scented floral stationary?"

"More like 'leather and dungeons'…"

"Okay…" Wincing slightly at that comment, Pepito snuffed out his cigar. "Did Membrane know?"

"Of course dad knows." Gaz growled. "He's not _that_ self-absorbed. Dad was just happy that my idiot brother had quit screaming about alien invasions and taken up hobbies that were vaguely scientific. Seriously, as long as Dib isn't acting like a total lunatic in public, Dad isn't going to care who or _what_ he's doing privately."

"So uncle wouldn't mind that his only son was attracted to a delusional megalomaniac from beyond the stars? Interesting…"

"What do you mean 'interesting'? And why do you keep talking about my dad in the past tense?"

"No reason," he muttered blandly. "There is something that has sparked my curiosity, though. You did say that Zim is homicidal jealous of Dib, right? So jealous that he not only tried to kill Dib but also vivisected the _girl_ he was seeing."

"But Mary-Anne wasn't really a person. She was just a robot."

"Then I take it G.I.R. isn't real, either?"

"No, G.I.R.'s a full-fledged person. He's too crazy not to be."

"Of course he is…" Pepito agreed, giving her that look people give the crazy old cat-ladies. "Back to the point, after putting our insane relation into a coma, Zim moved in with Keef, his—how did you so sweetly put it—friend with benefits?"

"Actually, I called him a 'cheap lay'…"

"Whatever. Now, considering that Zim went beyond _loco_ over Dib and Mary-Anne, could you imagine what's going to happen when Dib finds out about Keef?"

Gaz arched an eyebrow. "But he's not going to find out about Keef because nobody's told him. Besides, Keef is more like a victim of Zim's unusually effective manipulations. Dib is the kind of heroic moron who'd sympathize with a guy like Keef."

"If that's the case, then why didn't you stay home and offer to help get Zim? I mean, after all these years, I'd say Dib would appreciate some help. Besides, he's your brother."

"Are you kidding? Dib's gone completely batshit. And I'm not going to be stupid enough to be there when he finds out I've been trying to kill Zim before he woke up."

"Hmmm…"

Gaz stared at him, fully expecting some nasty comment. "I'm not afraid of Dib. It's just that it'd make Dad upset if I killed him, even if it was Dib's fault."

"Sure, sure…" Pepito muttered as he absently waved her assertion off, then abruptly asked, "Dib you kept notes on Zim, right? Like observations of were he went, what he'd do, maybe even jotting down a phone number or address…just in case?"

"So what?" Then she caught what he'd be hinting at. "…shit."

- - - -

"You don't know how great it is to see you again, Dib!" Keef merrily chirped, setting down another tray of sandwiches. "And I just can't wait till Zim finds out! He's going to so happy, that—that there just aren't words to describe how happy he'll be!"

Sitting back ominously shadowed, Dib smiled tightly. "Oh, I know. I'll be…_happy_ to see him, too."

"You aren't upset about me and Zim?"

"Upset?" Dib leaned forward slightly, with a crazed glint in his eye. "No, I'm not upset. In fact, I'm positively _mad_ with joy that Zim finally found someone as friendly and _easy_…-going as you are. It must have been _hell_ for him, feeling so alone and unwanted all these years… There was so much I could've done if only I had realized sooner just how _miserable_ Zim had become… how _desperate_…" He trailed off in a sad frown, then without warning, that warped smile reappeared. "But there's no point in dwelling on the past, is there? Besides, now that he has you, I'm sure Zim is obscenely _happy_."

"Well, we are both happy," sighed Keef. "But ever since that night you were hurt, Zim's been so horribly depressed. He really missed you, Dib. There's just so much that he's wanted to tell you, things he's held back for years. Hey! I have a great idea!" Keef hopped to his feet in a surge of glee. "How about you come to the prom with us tonight? There's still plenty of time to get you a tux and afterwards we can all go out to dinner someplace and you and Zim could…"

"No." Dib said flatly. "Three's a crowd, you know."

"Oh, I don't mind." There was a faint blush on Keef's cheek as he leaned in closer. "Actually, I'd just love to spend some more time with you, too. As friends and stuff…"

"Right…" Getting to his feet, Dib moved toward the front door. "I hate to run, but there's just so much I have to catch up on."

"Are you sure you don't want to go?"

"Yes. _Dead_ sure." Stepping out the door, Dib gave Keef a straining, crazed smile. "Bye."

"Bye, Dib." Shutting the door, Keef watched the paranormalist creep down the street a bit before leaning against the door with a lovelorn sigh. Oh, if only Zim had been home… Then maybe he could get Dib to finally see how Zim _really_ felt about him. And then they'd all get together like they talked about when they were kids, getting a nice little apartment in the city, living happily together and they'd all go to college together… and after that, they'd get jobs together, settling down in a nice cozy house in country, and maybe even adopt a few kids… and then they would…

The chiming of the living room cuckoo clock snapped Keef out of his sunshiny fantasy world.

"Oh my gosh! It's almost time to meet Zim!" He quickly darted upstairs to get ready. Undressing, Keef stepped into the shower. As he washed and hummed a merry tune, Keef couldn't hear the bathroom door being slowly opened. It wasn't till the shower curtain was wrenched open and the first blow was struck that Keef realized he was being attacked. He screamed and tried to no avail to block each stabbing blow of the sharpened point. Finally, the murderer turned on his heels and coolly walked out.

Gasping his final breath, Keef slumped down the shower wall and reached out. Fingers gripping the curtain's edge in a death grip, he lurched forward, ripping the curtain off its rings. Death made the terror-widened eyes stare glassily as the blood spiraled slowly down the drain.

- - - -


	12. My Sweet Revenge

(Against a backdrop of Mylar covered walls, crepe-paper streamers, and a cheesy 70's love theme, a note flutters down to the floor…)

"I, V--, do hereby give my permission to turn the climax of The Happy Smiley Dib Show into the prom scene of a sappy teen romance!"

… if by 'romance' one means S&M, booze, and homicidal fetishes. Actually, if you have stuck with it this far, then you've been waiting eagerly for some twisted ZADR, haven't you?

You have!

You sick little monkeys…

(_Lyrics from "Andy, You're a Star" by the Killers._)

**Chapter 12: My Sweet Revenge…**

Zim shifted uneasily, running a finger under his collar as he spoke to the computer. "Um… are you sure this is what they wear to the 'Prom'? It's really… scratchy."

"Yes, sir…" groaned the computer for the eighth time that day. "All research in this 'formal attire' indicates that human men wear such garments as button-down shirts, slacks, and ties…"

"Tie? Is that what this thing is?" Zim barked, dumbly holding up a strip of fabric emblazoned with an Inken logo.

"Yes, sir. You're supposed to tie it around your neck and…"

Gasping in panic, Zim clawed frantically at the noose he had foolishly drawn around his neck.

With a weary sigh, the computer watched Minimoose undo the noose and waited for the inept alien to catch his breath.

Holding out a clip-on tie, Minimoose hovered by Zim's shoulder. "Squeak?"

"No! I will not be thwarted by this insidious piece of fashion torture, despite its obvious health and combat draw-backs!"

After the twelfth attempt left Zim hanging nearly lifeless from the ceiling, Minimoose finally grabbed the tie and perfectly fixed it in place. It even held out his overcoat and pinned a horrendously magenta carnation onto his lapel.

"Thank you, Moose…" muttered Zim. He stuffed a few bottles of booze into his pockets and turned to leave.

"Uh, sir…"

Half turning to face the monitor Zim glared. "What is it now?"

"Well, sir, its jus that you're shoes are…eh, well they're…"

He glanced down at the boots. "What? They're polished and no-one said I couldn't wear boots!"

"Sir, high-heeled shoes are considered feminine attire. They make you look girly, sir. _Really_ girly."

"Girly? **_Girly!_** I'll have you know that my own EXTENSIVE and ASTOUNDING study of human footwear shows that many a human male wears 17-inch heels."

"Yes, sir… If they're pimps." snapped the computer then, realizing that Zim wasn't getting it, added, "Platform shoes were the height of fashion, in the _70's…_ They're no longer 'cool' among the young humans. In fact sir, that specific style of boot is only popular among hookers, porn-stars, and strippers."

Zim laughed the computer's comment off. "You're jealous that now I tower IMPRESSIVELY above you're tiny form!"

"Um, technically sir, I happen to be gigantic since I am directly connected to the hundreds of _miles_ of underground passages and other structures that make up the base."

"Whatever!" snorted Zim as he dosed himself with a healthy dose of _Pimp Juice_. "I haven't time to listen to you foolishly babble on about the _truth_! I must go and meet my '_date'_…"

With shudder at the prospect of spending an evening with Keef, Zim spun on his physics defying heels and strutted out of the lab.

Outside the High Skool, some hours later… Zim ignored the staring from his classmates as they walked by him. He'd been waiting by the door since well before the janitor had opened them up to let in students, but Keef still hadn't shown. And, from what Zim knew of the nauseatingly happy boy, Keef was never late… 

_(One, two…)_

He tapped his foot impatiently. The Prom had started over an hour ago! Where could that stupid boy be?

The more Zim thought about it, the more he started to think that Keef had… he had… How the hell did these humans put it?

"Aw, poor guy," wheezed Gretchen as she, Dirge, Melvin, and Matthew P. Mathers III walked past.

"Yeah…" Melvin muttered, glancing at the alien. "Looks like Zim got stood up…"

_(Hey, shut up! Hey, shut up!)_

Hissing angrily, Zim made as if to lunge at them, sending Mathew screaming in terror as he scurried for safety. The rest of the geek brigade stared at Zim for a minute.

Dirge shook his head. "Man, you don't have to take it out on us."

"Leave the poor guy be, Dirge." Gretchen groaned, then gave Zim a weak smile. "If you need somebody to talk to, I understand…

Alone again on the front steps, he glared up at the empty, smog-darkened sky and let himself slip into a brooding daydream.

"Dib wouldn't stand me up…" he growled to nobody in particular.

(On the field, I remember…)

Zim smiled bitterly as he trudged into Skool.

He could still recall how Dib always seemed to know exactly when and where to find him, even after the stinkbeast claimed he'd "given up" the chase. As creepy as this obsessive knowledge was, it left Zim with a strange twangie-gooey feeling in the pit of his squeedle-splooch to know that the Dib never truly forgot him after all.

_(You were incredible…)_

It may have been the most moronic move in history not to kill Dib outright, especially given the vulgar display of power contain in the human ENORMOUS skull. Such fury… such raw hatred… Zim shivered at the memory of just how close Dib had come to killing him with that—dare he say it? —INGENIOUS ploy of faking a swoon to catch him off guard. And yet, he was satisfied with leaving his greatest enemy comatose.

After all, it did leave the hope that maybe…

_(You think you're alone,)  
(With the pain that you drain from love…)_

The smile slipped off his face.

Standing just a short distance away was Gretchen, by herself now as she glared at the Dib memorial, complete with that HORRIBLE hologram of _his_ Dib happily in the arms of Mary-Anne. It amazed Zim just how much hatred was radiating off the normal timid human.

"It's not fair." Gretchen grumbled, then she noticed Zim standing next to her. "Can you believe them? Putting that picture up!" When Zim didn't reply, the girl rambled on, "I just can't believe those jerks from the school-board had to use a picture of Dib and that…that…"

Shaking with a fury the likes of which few beings besides Gaz could experience, Zim finished her statement with a hiss. "Fucking whore…"

"Yeah." Gretchen growled, tact momentarily forgotten. "I mean, it's tragic and all that she died, but what makes them think that Dib ever really cared for her. They barely knew each other! If anybody should've been in that picture, it should've been somebody who's spent their every waking moment absolutely devoted to Dib's every single move!"

Zim nodded angrily in agreement.

"Some people would've given their limbs just to lick the dirt off his boots!" rasped Gretchen through her retainer. "But, NOOOO! He just had to go run off with that dirty, cheap…"

"Bitch!" roared Zim. "She wasn't worthy of the Dib!"

_(In a car with a girl…)_  
_(Promise me she's not you're world…)_

"You said, Zim!" Gretchen snarled.

But the alien paid no attention to her as he flew off into a rant. "None of these filthy humans ever deserved to have you! It was just you and me, Dib! You and me, locked in battle since the day I landed on this MISERABLE planet! And then you go and spurn me for a fucking robot slut! How dare you, Dib. HOW DARE YOU REJECT ZIM! If any deserved to squash your berry, it was ME!"

Giving the crazed green boy a funny look, Gretchen paused in her retreat to safety. "Don't you mean 'pop his cherry'?"

"Uh… YEAH! That too!" came the shriek, then Zim's voice went strange and quiet. "You're _mine_, Dib. _Mine._"

_(Get down…)_

"Argh!" Flailing, Zim valiantly fought off an offending veil of pastel streamers that assailed him the second he stormed through the doors. The sheer gaudiness of the decorations, with their cutesy springtime theme and overly shiny foil sheep balloons, left Zim longing desperately for the more comforting run-down barracks look that the gym normally had.

_(Leave you number on the locker,)  
(And I'll give you a call…)_

"So anyway," started one of the popular girls as she and her girlfriends chattered by the punchbowl. "I was telling Rufus Slocum—you know, the weirdo freshman girl-- that I wouldn't invite any lezzies to my parties…"

"What are these '_lezzies' _you speak of?" Zim asked, leaning in to so he could eavesdrop better. "And why are they banned from you're gatherings? Do they have…(shudder)… the _brainworms_?"

Shocked by the idea that the most unpopular person in school had _dared_ come near them, all the popular girls could do was gape at him. Then one of them spoke up.

"Oh my God, Heather!" she gasped to the first girl. "He's talking to us!"

"Don't have an aneurysm, Heather!" snapped the alpha Heather. Slowly and with a hideously condescending smile, she turned to Zim. "Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? I'm sure **_you_** would know Rufus' a big old lesbian."

Zim stared blankly. "Oh… so she's a native of Lesbos."

"Oh my God!" gasped another lesser Heather. "Is he serious, Heather?"

The alpha Heather glared at Zim. "Quite pulling our dicks! Are you expecting us to believe that a fag like you doesn't know what lesbians are?"

"FOR THE LAST TIME, INSOLENT DIRT MONKEYS!" roared Zim. "I AM NOT A CIGARETTE NOR A BUNDLE OF KIDDLING! ZIM IS A MALE!" He paused, and noticing that everyone was staring at him, added, "A **HUMAN** male. Yep. One hundred and twenty percent human, alright. Yes sir. I sure is humanly reeking with humanness."

_(… Yeah…)_

"Whatever, gay boy…" sneered the alpha Heather as she and her pack of Heathers walked off.

"Gay boy?" Zim murmured in confusion, trying to figure out why they thought he was happy.

With that, everyone went back to dancing and socializing.

"It's not fair…" Zim muttered to himself, taking a gulp of booze. "I shouldn't be stuck watching these miserable humans going through their primitive and disgusting mating rituals! If it wasn't for that stupid Keef, I'd back at the base plotting to annihilate every last one of their pathetic lives. And then, after I'm finished destroying all the humans, I'm going to go back to Irk and then I'll…I'll…"

"And just how are you going to get to Irk? You don't have a ship, dumb ass."

_(Leave you legacy in gold)  
(On the plaques that line the hall…)_

Pivoting like a crazed gyroscope on his gravity defying heels, Zim found himself face to face with the Other.

"You again! But the pills… they…" he sputtered.

"They make me go away?" snickered the Other. "Oh no-no, Zim. I'm still here. I'll always be here…"

"Well, it doesn't matter!" Zim snorted, downing the rest of the bottle and grabbing another. "I can just drink you away."

"Can you drink Dib away, too?"

He choked on the booze, then shouted hysterically, "Dib? DIB! He means NOTHING to me!"

_(On the streets, such a sweet face…)_

"Liar." The Other said flatly. "I know you, _Zim._ I know things about you that even **_you_** don't know. Like how you spend all your time looking through those pictures of Dib…"

"Shut up…"

"…how you broke into his gym locker just to sniff his shorts…"

"I said shut up…"

"And like how, when you're with Keef, you like to close your eyes and think that it's really Dib instead…"

"SHUT UP!" Racking his claws down the Other's face, Zim pulled his hand back and was amazed to see that he was holding the tattered pieces of a balloon.

_(In the staff room, the verdict's in…)_

"You were right…" mumbled the History teacher to the guidance counselor. "That green kid is crazy."

Laughing weakly, Zim hurriedly discarded the dead balloon and sneaked into a shadowy corner with the other rejects. He barely registered Gretchen's hesitant smile of recognition as he got better acquainted with Jack Daniels and Jimmy Beam. Soon the failed Invader found himself in a fuzzy haze of alcoholic bliss. He was so far gone that he didn't even realize Gretchen was now carrying on an extremely one-sided conversation with him about bad dates she'd been on and how he should try to find a "nice person" to go out with…

_(Promise me she's not your world…)_

Suddenly, a power surge blew all the lights, plunging the dance floor into darkness for sever agonizing minutes before a single spotlight flashed on, and swung its beam on the double-doors. The doors slammed opened and in walked a tall, dazzling white figure.

_('Cause Andy, you're a star…)_

The room was dead silent. Then someone screamed, "OH MY GOD! IT'S **_HIM_**!"

Cries and ecstatic moans filled the air, yet apparently Dib was deaf to the sheer awe his appearance inspired. Holding his head up with a disdainful look, he surveyed the crowd like a conquering ruler before he suddenly saw what he wanted standing seriously smashed up against wall. Without a word, Dib coolly cut through the murmuring crowd which parted like water in front of a great white's fin.

_(In nobody's eyes…)_

Zim could only stare, wondering if the blurry Dib-shaped glob bearing down on him was the by-product of a bad batch of whiskey. He barely noticed Gretchen grab his shoulders for support as she swooned.

Dib stopped barely five feet from his enemy. "_**Zim**._"

_(In nobody's eyes but mine.)_

All eyes turned to Dib and Zim, staring the pair down with a strangely hungry yet fearful gaze. The tension mounted.

It soon dawned on the drunken alien that the entire room had formed a semicircle around him, Gretchen, and the Dib. Annoyed, he shoved the lovesick girl away and staggered forward to confront this new imposter.

"You think you can…can fool me again, Gaz? Fool girl!" he slurred, trying to stop the room from spinning. "I'm sick of your dec—…your decep— Your tricks! Now take your fucking robot and go home before I break you in half."

Dib only stood there, looking down at Zim. The glare on his glasses left Dib's expression unreadable.

But Zim took the lack of response (and the fact that _this_ Dib was a quite a bit taller than he was…) personally. "You think this is funny? Are you laughing at me!" When that failed to get a reaction, he shrieked, "ANSWER ME, DAMMIT! ZIM COMMANDS YOU TO ANSWER, FILTHY—"

Without warning, Dib backhanded Zim and sent him sprawling across the floor.

Zim got back to his feet and lunged for Dib, only to be backhanded again, this time crashing into the refreshment table. Yet the alien, fueled by pride, self-righteous anger, and a more than healthy dose of liquid courage, kept charging for Dib and kept getting smacked down.

And all the while the crowd dumbly stood by watching the extremely one-sided fight. A few people gasped while others looked around helplessly for the chaperones, who had all strangely disappeared after the lights went out. Even though Zim was the most loathed person in the High Skool, it was still shocking that anyone could just callously slap another person around like that without any display of emotion. It seemed almost impossible that Dib was capable of dishing out such a vicious beating, even to that green freak, but what made it even more incredible was that the rumor that Zim had single-handedly put Krug and his entire gang into intensive care mere weeks ago…

Zim lurched to his feet after a round of savage blows. "Had enough yet?" he asked, hacking up a clot of blood.

Dib gazed blankly at him.

"Want some more, eh?" He wavered unsteadily, nearly toppling in his heels. Zim tried the raise a fist and finally managed to pull himself into a pathetic fighting stance. "Come on, then…"

Reaching back, Dib mechanically readied yet another pimp slap but stopped mid swing when Gretchen grabbed his arm.

"Stop it. Stop it!" she sobbed, frantically yanking on Dib's arm. "Please, stop! You're going to kill him!"

Turning to face her, Dib said mildly, "That's the idea."

Gretchen let go and gaped at him in horror.

Dib merely shrugged and, lowering his arm watched Zim finally topple backwards. He stared down at the battered heap on the floor for a second without a flicker of emotion, then spun on his heels and strode away. The crowd fearfully jerked aside to let him pass, giving Dib the widest berth possible.

They waited in terrified silence until the doors had banged shut before closing in to see what was left of Zim.

"Whoa…" mumbled Poochy, Drinker of HATE. "Is he dead?"

"You gotta poke them to tell…" Dirge droned sagely. "Anybody got a stick?"

Leaning down, Zita helped Gretchen prop up Zim's head, even going so far as to give up the tissues she'd been stuffing her bra with so they could wipe the blood off his face. The rest of their classmates simply milled around looking confused and awkward.

Glancing over Gretchen's shoulder, the Letter M quipped, "Man, Zim got beat down like a cheap ho…"

"Word."

At that, Zim's eye shot open and, knocking both girls aside lurched to his feet with a bit of froth forming at his mouth.

"Dib…" Laughing quietly, he started to stagger after his attacker.

"Hey man," Torque spoke up, gingerly touching Zim's arm. "Just lay back down and we'll get you an ambula—"

Zim whirled around, slamming the varsity linebacker across the room before he vaulted the crowd. He burst through the doors, charging blindly up the stairs and down the hallway until skidding to an abrupt stop.

Slipping on scattered glass, he warily stepped forward to examine what was left of the Dib memorial. The hologram was gone, it's mechanism destroyed by what seemed to be an explosion. The rest of the relics laid scattered over the floor, crushed or charred beyond recognition as though someone had been trying to obliterate every piece of Dib they found. But, before he could figure out who or what could have caused such damage, footsteps crunching nearer jerked Zim to his feet.

"Dib?" he asked, breathless as he rounded on the human.

Cocking his head to one side, Dib only stared blankly at him.

"No! That CANNOT BE!" Zim screeched, pointing an angry claw at the human. "You can't be _my_ Dib. I saw the condition he was in, hooked up to all those PATHETIC machines. And, after what I did to his body, the Dib will remain lying in his father's lab until he rots like the forgotten sack of meaty waste he is."

Dib snorted. "You're still a self-assured little shit, aren't you?"

The alien growled. "And you're still an emotional cripple, Gaz."

"Gaz?" It was less question and more threat in subtext, which Zim missed entirely.

"Are you trying to make me look stupid!"

"You never needed any help from me, Zim."

"Damn right." Quickly, Zim shifted back to belligerence. "Now, just what makes you think that I'm going to fall for you stupid robot-Dib trick again, _Gaz_? Are you trying to piss me off? Or, in your foolishly girly, uh…foolishness, do you really think that you still have a chance at defeating me?"

Dib stared at him. "Funny… It sure looked like I was kicking your ass back there on the dance floor…"

Zim crowed triumphantly. "AH-HA! So you admit to not being Dib!"

"No. But thank you…" Smiling madly now, Dib moved closer and backed Zim into the railing. "Thank you so much for telling about Gaz… Now I can show my little sister just how much I _appreciate _her meddling."

Dangerously close to falling over the railing, Zim blinked stupidly at him. "Huh? IMPOSSIBLE!"

Dib sighed. "Improbable. It was improbable that I'd ever wake up after what happened. But you forget one thing, _Zim_: In my father's lab, NOTHING is impossible. Besides, I am—I _was_ my dad's favorite guinea pig. And he always wanted to go poking around inside my head… I think he really believed he could bring me back to 'sanity' with the power of his precious _SCIENCE_." Spitting out the last part, his lip curled into a crazed grin. "But that didn't turn out well for me… Then again, it did go so well for him either…"

For a moment, all Zim did was look at him blankly. Suddenly, he started to laugh. "Surely you can't be serious! Dib's too idiotically HEROIC! He didn't have the nerve to kill another human, much less murder his own FATHER! That's about as likely as Keef being anything but happy…"

"Ah, _Keef…_"The grin twisted into a mocking look of pity. "I'm so sorry that he couldn't make it, but Keef had a little accident in the shower… Apparently, he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife fifty times."

"You? _You_ killed Keef?" Zim gaped in shock, then shrugged. "Well, I guess it's for the best."

Dib glared. "I just told that I murdered your boyfriend. Doesn't that mean anything to you, _Zim_?"

The alien snorted. "No. I was planning on getting rid of the little pest soon, anyway."

"But Keef _loved_ you," hissed Dib. "Doesn't that mean _anything_ to you, _Zim_?"

"Feh! I laugh at your PITIFUL _love_! Zim needs NO filthy human _emotions_!" Haughtily, Zim tossed back his head. "My heart is like a lump of stony cold evil that pumps the stony cold blood of evil through my stony cold evil veins…which are evil! Man, I'm so evil that I could crush this DISGUSTING planet and still be up for some nachos! Because not only am I evil but I'm also an unstoppable death machine, baby! And NO ONE—not you, not that excuse for a military, or even the Dib himself—can stop my reign of terror! Now, CRINGE BEFORE THE MIGHTY EVIL OF ZIM!"

"Cringe before this." Before Zim even realized it, Dib had reached back and sent him sailing over the railing with a single punch.

The force knocked Zim straight through the bottom of the indoor waterfall, smashing his battered body right into the bowels of the Hi-Skool sub-basement. Groaning in pain, Zim laid in the crater he'd made with water splashing down from above. He crawled slowly out and looked up to see Dib floating through the hole.

"What's the matter, _Zim_?" he smirked smugly, hovering just off the ground. "I thought you were an evil unstoppable death machine. Surely one little punch isn't going to put you down. Come on! Get up, _Zim!_ I _want_ you to get up… Get up, and _fight_."

"Who are you?" screamed Zim. "WHO ARE YOU?"

Dib rolled his eyes. "Okay, do I really need to explain this all again? Dad took advantage of my coma to fuck around in my head, reviving me and setting me off to seek revenge in a gory rampage of MADNESS!"

"Let me see if I've got this right: You're saying that you are Dib—the REAL Dib—and that you've come to rain down your horrific yet totally justifiable vengeance upon my head for what I did to you?"

"Exactly."

Zim arched a bruised eyebrow. "You do know you're INSANE, right?"

"Ha! Silly space boy!" laughed Dib. "Scientist don't go _insane_… We go _MAD_."

"Okay…" Straightening his tie, Zim drew himself up as tall as possible and only came up to Dib's chin. "So you've killed your father, you slaughtered Keef, and hunted me down. Now what, _Dib_? Will you kill me as well?"

"Actually," Dib purred dropping to his feet to slink closer. "I had originally planned on just beating on you until you were pulverized into a messy, twitching pulp and leave you to die in this godforsaken place. But, on my way to Keef's, I thought things over…" Reaching out, he gently wiped away the blood on Zim's lip. "True, it would be deeply satisfying, and appropriate. And yet, what you did to me wasn't simply to break my body. Any shithead can shatter spines, rupture spleens, puncture lungs, rip somebody's face apart, and so on and so forth. Oh no!" Dib let his fingers trail down Zim's neck, leaning even closer. "You did the one thing no one else has ever done to me, Zim: You broke my heart."

"I broke your heart? _I_ broke _your _heart!" screamed Zim, slapping his hand away. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ABANDONED **_ME_**! ALL THESE YEARS, I'VE DONE NOTHING BUT TRY TO GET YOUR FUCKING ATTENTION, AND NEVER ONCE DID YOU ACKNOWLEDGE MY GREATNESS! EVERY MONSTER YOU FOUGHT, EVERY CONSPIRACY YOU UNMASKED, EVERY VILLIANIOUS PLOT TO TAKE OVER EARTH YOU THWARTED… THEY WERE ALL ME! WITHOUT MY EVIL PLOTTING YOU WOULD BE _NOTHING_, **_DIB_**! **_NOTHING!_**"

Wiping the spit off his face, Dib glared down at the panting alien. "Are you done?"

"No." Zim snapped hoarsely. "No, I'm not done! I _made _you! And what do you do to repay me? Not only did you spend years—years, _Dib!_— refusing to recognize me as the greatest enemy you have ever faced, but you went and hooked up with some fucking robot. " The alien looked at the stupefied expression on Dib's face and sighed, fixing his wig. "Okay, maybe I overreacted."

"You overreacted?" snapped Dib. "That's your explanation? You brainwashed and molested my little sister, vivisected Mary-Anne, unleashed hordes of bloodthirsty zombies upon the city, and sent me into a nightmare world from which there was no escape."

"Whoa… I never said I was going to explain what I did." He put the wig back on and walked toward the stairs. Zim paused next to Dib. "Don't act surprised, _Dib_. You know, as a monster, I am capable of doing such things."

Dib glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "Surprised? No. I'm not surprised. Did I know you could do those things? Yes. Did I ever think for a moment that you would that sort of shit to me?" He paused for a second, then said flatly, "Well, yeah. But never in our history together did I ever think you would be enough of an evil bastard to actually pull it off."

"Well you thought wrong, didn't you?" Smirking, Zim pulled an obscenely large rail-gun out of his PAK. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a gym full of humans I have go and annihilate."

He made it twelve steps before Dib spoke again.

"Are you afraid yet, _Zim_?"

Zim stopped, his foot hovering over the first step. "Afraid? Of _you_? Don't be stupid, sad little earth monkey!"

"You should be."

The alien turned to laugh in Dib's face only to find that the human had vanished. He shrugged off the fear creeping up on him and trotted upstairs clutching the rail-gun just a little too tightly.

* * *


	13. Will Be Yours For the Taking

Elvis has the red fish. And my pants are filled with baloney. (Nod-nod, blink-wink-blink, nod-wink) Now, let's pick up where we left off in Chapter 12: "My Sweet Revenge…"

**Chapter 13: … Will Be Yours For the Taking**

"Nothing to fear… nothing to fear…" chanted Zim, creeping up through the basement. "It's only Dib! Only stupid, squishy, bighead Dib boy! Yep… nothing to fear…"

Out of nowhere, a shadowy thing darted past Zim with an evil chittering. He screamed in terror and blasted the thing with 80-rounds worth of lead. Cautiously, he approached the quivering mass of bloodied fur and laughed in relief to discover it was only a rat. His voice strained into a hysterical cackle as he collapsed into one of the many discarded desks left over from the time before the Hi-Skool was '_cool'_.

Zim took a deep breath and reloaded. "Calm down. It was just a rat… A slimy, disgusting rat…"

But that didn't quiet his paranoia. All around him beams creaked, plumbing groaned, and the phantom thump of feet echoed throughout. He strained himself to listen, to glean some hint of where Dib could be lurking yet it was useless. When a pipe cracked and squealed steam, he went toppling out of his seat.

"I'm… an INVADER!" Zim screeched, getting back into the chair. "The ELITEST of ELITE Irken soldiers! And the elite have NO FEAR! Do you hear me, Dib! Zim has no fear! This is me without fear! And a 10 mm rail-gun…"

"You jerk." grumbled Dib from the darkness behind the alien. When Zim turned to face him, the human frowned. "First, you try to kill me. Now you're stealing my lines? God! When will it end!"

Leaping back, Zim leveled the barrel of his gun. "I'm warning you, worm-boy! This is a Vortian Full-Auto Fecalator 9000! It can annihilate an entire squadron of mechanized troopers in under five milliseconds. In other words, I've got a hand cannon and I'm not afraid to use it!"

"That's nice Zim, but…"

"You dare DOUBT Zim! DIE!" Laughing madly, Zim crushed the trigger in eager anticipation of Dib's messy death only to hear a lame little click. "Huh?" He dumbly kept pressing the trigger only to get the same lame clicking over and over and over again. He shook the gun in blind rage. "Broken! How can it be broken! Argh! You worthless piece of…"

Dib cleared his throat and said baldly, "It's too hot to fire again." He pulled a pamphlet out of his pocket. "According to the manual, you have to let the barrel cool for at least 20 minutes between bursts before the fail-safe catch cuts off, otherwise the gun will explode in your face."

"Give me that!" Zim snarled, yanking the manual away. "No one reads the manual! Besides, your primitive little brainmeats can't handle the intricacies of grav weapon—Wait a minute… How do you learn to read Irken!"

"You taught me, _Zim_!" purred Dib, looming over the shorter alien.

"What!" Zim shrieked, jerking back. "I _taught_ you! Never! As I said before, your crude monkey brains could not possibly handle the linguistic GLORY of Imperial Irken. Even if you overheard me speaking, you would never be able to understand its verbal majesty... Come to think of it, I haven't even _spoken _Irken since…uh…" Claws twitching, he silently counted backwards.

"You haven't spoken your native tongue since you came to Earth five years, eleven months, one day, three hours and fifty five minutes ago, Zim." Laughing quietly, Dib smiled and advanced on the alien. "See, not only do I know your language but also **_everything_** about you, starting with your disastrous birth in the smeeting chambers of Irk that lead to a planet wide blackout. Next came your military training on Devastia and you teaming up with Skoodge in an escape attempt that caused a second planetary blackout," he hissed, backing Zim into a discarded chalkboard. "That lead to your first assignment: Being sent off as an assistant science officer at a distant research station and your subsequent creation of an energy-consuming beast that consumed hundreds, including two of your Tallest ." Dib's hand slid down Zim's side, slipping around his waist. The alien squirmed underneath him.

"Then you went on a lunatic rampage across Irk," Dib continued. "Since this ruined Operation Impending Doom 1, you were banished to Foodcourtia as a lowly fry-cook. But you 'quit' being banished, crashed the Great Assigning for Operation Impending Doom 2, and got saddled with the fake mission that brought you to Earth in the first place…" Smiling, he pressed against the alien. "And you told me all this, _Zim_, nearly five years ago when your PAK tried to take over my body. That's how you gave me every little detail of your miserable existence…" His mouth was barely touching Zim's. In a breathy pant, he whispered, "Since then, I've known things about you that even _you_ don't know about yourself."

For a moment, Zim looked deep into the crazed stare. Then he began laughing.

"All this time!" came the hysteric gasp. "I was…was starting to think I really had gone CRAZY!"

Dib pulled back. "What are you talking about, Zim?"

But the alien rambled on, gibbering.. "Was Gaz in on your plan? And Keef, too? You know, he did have a—how do you humans put it—a 'crunch' on you too…"

"It's 'crush', and please don't remind me…" muttered Dib, gagging slightly.

Zim giggled madly. "I truly am impressed by the lengths you've gone to! All those years pretending to ignore me, subtly destroying my commitment to the mission while plotting my destruction. The **_girl_** was a brilliant touch, worm-baby." Zim's smile twisted weirdly as he wrapped an arm around Dib's shoulders and pulling him closer. "Using jealousy to draw me out…Sheer GENIUS! But you went that extra step by making me believe that I had finally defeated you and created the Other Zim to make me think that I was going INSANE from grief!" There was a sparkle of admiration in Zim's good eye. "Now that's a really neat trick! Tell me how you did it, Dib. Was the 'coma' faked? Can you astral-project yourself? Surely with a head that ENORMOUS you must have plenty of room for psychic powers… Then again, your species isn't advanced enough to use them."

"Okay…" Leaning in close and just barely touching his lips with the tips of his claws, Dib growled out answers, "First Zim, you've always been a delusional little freak. Second, there was no conspiracy to stop you. I honestly don't give a flying rat's ass whether you blow up the Earth or not. In fact, the longer I live on this dirtball, the more Iwant it destroyed! And finally, MY HEAD'S NOT BIG!" Dib stressed his point by raking his claw down the board inches from Zim's head making an ear-rupturing shriek.

Zim glared. He started to snarl back, but the words got stuck in his throat when Dib's hand slithered under his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." snickered the human, fingers skirting the edge of Zim's jaw. He jerked Zim's head up and pressed their mouths together lightly. Taking advantage of the alien's startled gasp, Dib slipped his tongue inside. Caught up in the moment, Zim gave into the **_hunger_** and let the human probe deeper with sloppy strokes. Then he caught a sharp acidic tang burning throughout his mouth and down into his throat. Snarling, he shoved Dib away with enough force to send the human staggering over the desks.

"YOU'RE TRYING TO EAT MY FACE!" he roared, leveling the rail-gun at Dib.

"No. I was kissing you." Dib purred sweetly, then spat out a broken capsule. "Oh, and slipping you a nerve toxin."

"YOUR SILIVA IS POSIONIOUS!" screamed Zim in disbelief. His finger twitched against the trigger while he scrubbed furiously at his mouth. "Antidote! Give me the antidote for it right now or I'll kill you!"

Dib chuckled. "Calm down, Zim. It won't kill you. I just want to make you a bit more cooperative…"

"Cooperative? What for! Can't you kill me now?" Zim whined. "Then you're revenge will be complete."

Pacing forward with that mad gleam in his eyes , Dib patted the alien's cheek. "Oh, my revenge isn't your death. See, I don't want you to simply _die, _Zim. I want you to _suffer_." He tightened his grip on Zim's face painfully. "But first, I want to tell you exactly _why_. Anyway, it takes a few minutes for the toxin to take effect." He sat down and gestured for Zim to take the seat next to him.

Zim fixed a Death Glare© on him but settled into the desk anyway.

"All my life," Dib began bitterly. "I've been searching for proof that the paranormal exists. One piece of irrefutable proof to let me awaken these blind sheep to the threat hanging over their heads! Bigfoot babies, vampire gerbils, UFOs… it didn't matter as long as I could make them _believe_ instead of writing me off as another nutcase. So when I found out you were coming here, it was a dream come true. By revealing you for the alien menace that you claimed to be, I could finally prove that REAL aliens _were_ out there! I'd have proof! Proof that I was RIGHT! Proof that I was SANE!

Dib sighed. "At least, I thought that at first… But as time wore on, even my best efforts got me nowhere. No matter how blatantly inhuman you were, no matter how much evidence I'd gather, they kept refusing to believe! Even my own family doubted me! After years of being called crazy, I began to wonder if _they_ had been right all along… that I was _crazy _and you were just some lunatic with a skin condition. And what's worse, the thrill in hunting you was gone. I had grown tired of playing the game. Between fighting you and fighting the collective idiocy of _them_…" He jerked his thumb toward the dance above their heads. Dib paused and took a deep, calming breath before continuing.

"It was wearing me down, Zim. I had given up on taking you seriously months before that day in your lab, and you never once realized that I'd stopped caring! Once I thought that you were this diabolically clever invader, but honestly Zim you're an incompetent jerk. You always have been. Your plans are so shoddy and irrational that usually all I had to do was leave you to foil them yourself! Every time you announced your latest plan for global conquest, I'd make a half-ass attempt to defeat you. Yet I kept chasing you. Facing you on battlefield had become my life's work, and I was going to keep doing it no matter how stupid or useless it became. I told myself I was only doing it because it was my duty, Zim. My _mission_. You of all people should understand what it's like to tell yourself that lie so many times that you make it true…"

"Are you implying something, _Dib_?" muttered Zim past a numb tongue.

The human shook his head sadly. "Don't you get it? That day in your lab when your Tallest told me what a _joke_ you were was the day I lost **_everything_**. They did in minutes what you had failed to do since we met: Utterly shatter my will to live. When I said you broke my heart, Zim, I never meant that I **_loved _**you. You broke me by betraying the fantasy I had built up around you. Until then, until your **_masters_** said it right to my face, I thought of you as my greatest enemy. You were the evil monster from outer space to my noble hero. And I believed in you. I _trusted_ you, Zim!" Tears misted on Dib's glasses. "I wanted you to be the real thing so badly that I devoted everything I had—everything I _was_—to you… only to find out you're nothing but a loser? You were a loser just like me."

His shaking voice trailed off into an angry, choked silence. When Dib began again, his voice was eerily flat.

"I made the decision then and there to stop being a loser. I was going to be a Hero. I was going to be the son my dad always wanted. I was going to do as I pleased without being ridiculed, because I'd finally have the fucking respect I deserved. But to do all that, I had to give up _you._ And you know what? Without you in my life, I had success after success after success! I had everything I could ever want! Without you I had an adoring public, I had my dad's approval, I had the popularity, the fame, the fortune, and piles of groupies… Without you I was the coolest motherfucker since Elvis. And without you I thought I finally had my **_freedom_**. I was free from the game, free from being a loser, and—best of all— free from **_YOU_**. And without you, I was **_miserable._** I was literally dead inside without you because you were my life!

Dib laughed coldly. "Sounds weird, doesn't it Zim? All those years of hating your guts, I never thought I could actually _miss_ you. But I was wrong. I realized something after nearly killing you in front of the entire school last year. No matter what I did or how cool I became, I wouldn't stop **_wanting_** you. I wanted the have you all to myself. All I've wished for since we met was tohave you strapped down tightly on an examining table, completely at my mercy so I could make you **_mine_**. I wanted to dig elbow deep in of your carcass and yank your slimy alien guts out not just because I want to study you, Zim. What I really want is to _**violate** _you."

Zim blinked stupidly. "Violate?"

"Do you really _need_ me to explain, Zim?" He smiled at the sudden revulsion on the alien's face. "Yes, it's sick. And I _like _it."

It took Zim a moment to regain his composure. The toxin seeping through him had the same effect of a serious binge without the happy oblivion buzz. And it plus Dib's craziness was _really _pissing him off. Slowly, he hissed, "I'd rather die."

"Funny you should say that, Zim." Dib remarked calmly. "Did you know I've had the power to kill you for years? At any moment, I could say three little words that'd have you splattered across a dissection room in less than an hour. Can you imagine it? Legions of scientists across the globe running bits of you through their greedy little rubber gloves, probing your insides, studying you down to the very last molecule of your filthy inhuman DNA… All I'd have to do is admit you're an alien, because they believe me _now_. And it doesn't matter what I've said before, since even the scientists are merely the smarter sheep in the flock. But as professionally satisfying as exposing you to the world would be, it also means I'd have to share you with _them._ And that's something I'll _never_ do. Because you don't belong to those fools." Dib warped his fist around Zim's tie, dragging the alien closer. "You belong to **_me_**, Zim."

"You're INSANE." Zim slurred as Dib let him drop onto the desk.

"No, no! I told you before Zim, I'm a SCIENTIST! I'm not insane! I'm just very slightly **_MAD!_**" Dib chirped, then glanced at his watch. "You've also got less than ten minutes of consciousness left, so I'm gonna have some punch. See you, _Zim_."

Looking up, Zim watched the insanely happy human bound upstairs. Then he rolled over onto his back and stared with his one good eye at the dizzy maze of pipes. Slowly, the world began to collapse into a narrow black tunnel that wrenched tighter and tighter and tighter…

"No! I will not face defeat at the hands of the Dib!" roared Zim, sitting up. He thought for a second, then added, "I will not face defeat at any hands! Or feet! Or tentacle-like appendage! For I am ZIM! And I am UNDEFEATABLE!" He lurched to his feet and up each arduous step on legs that felt like microwaved Jell-O. By the sheer force of his INCREDIBLE Irken will, Zim made it back to the gym and wobbled along the wall with the rail-gun dragging behind him. Making half a circuit about the room, the alien staggered off the wall and into a sea of writhing, sweaty bodies. The music must've been blaring over the chatter of teens as they danced and fooled around in shadows, but to Zim it was a cottony muffle of twinkling noise that he swam through in search of Dib. Strobe lights and sequins glinting on prom dresses did little to help Zim with his already blurred double vision while he strained to find the human. He was so intent on hunting Dib that Zim failed to see Chuck dancing with his dates before crashing into them.

"Hey!" grunted the jock as he reached down and lifted Zim by his skull. "What you think you're doing, jerk?"

Zim tried to snarl at Chuck but all he managed was a lame "Dee-dee-dee Dum!"

"You call me stupid, stupid?" Chuck tightened his grip.

"Dar …Mouth…tricks!" slurred Zim, doing his best to save his ass. "Wang…work…on me!"

Taking Zim's confused word salad as a homosexual comment, Chuck pulled back a meaty fist. Instinctively, the alien flinched as it hurtled with deadly speed toward his already pummeled face. With a yelp of pain, the fist stopped nanometers from where Zim's nose should be.

Opening his eye, Zim looked up Chuck's arm and saw the shimmer of steel dug into the flesh.

Dib sipped his punch coolly, sinking his claws in deeper. "That's _mine_, Chuck."

The jock hurriedly dropped Zim.

Zim groggily stared at the shiny red dots that followed Chuck's retreat into the crowd gathered around them, eager for a repeat performance. He tried to twist around to face Dib but the motion caused his body to seize up and tip over. He felt himself thump against something warm that smelled like ozone. "Oh…shit."

Dib scooped the alien off the floor and smoothed back his wig. Draping Zim over his arms, he glided across the dance floor with the lab coat whipping dramatically out behind him as they sliced through the mob.

"Help me…" Zim mouthed when they passed the smudge that might've been Gretchen. The rail-gun slid from his hand and clattered at her feet.

Outside the first bugs of spring chirped an insane chorus that rang shrilly in Zim's ears. He was carried through lamplight pools toward the glowing midnight black of a '59½ Mustang convertible. The blazing crimson engulfed Zim as he was lowered into a smooth leather seat. The snicker-snack of a safety cutting off hit Zim's ears like lemons wrapped around shrapnel.

"Hold it!" Gretchen wheezed, knees knocking together as she hoisted the massive rail-gun. From the seat he was slumping further into, Zim groaned.

Dib turned toward her. "Gretchen, honey…put that down before you hurt yourself."

"No! Not until you let Zim go!" came the gasp as she finally managed to hold the barrel steady.

"I don't think you understand…" Dib began only be cut short by Gretchen fragging Rob's new SUV and several other hapless cars. "Holy shit! Watch where you're pointing that thing!"

"Sorry!" wailed the girl, swaying unsteadily under the weight. "But I can't…I can't let you do this, Dib!"

"Go back inside." Now Dib was advancing on her. "Please, Gretchen. Just go away."

"I won't let you kill him!" Gretchen screamed, leveling the muzzle at Dib while she sobbed. "Dib, I'm begging you! I don't want to kill you… Dib please! Don't make me shoot you…"

Zim watched the rail-gun flash apart as Gretchen fell back against the lamppost. Wrapped in toxic sedation, he felt the pieces clatter to the pavement and Gretchen's dull thump of meatiness against the metal. Now Dib was leaning over her, white shadows overtaking the smear of purple-green across the sidewalk. Zim could hear her crying softly, pleading for _his_ life, then silence. When the human stepped back, Zim saw the Gretchen-shaped lump slump over and lie motionless. He stared at her until jolted back by Dib slamming his door. Pulling himself together, Zim managed to turn toward the human. "Kill her?"

"No," came the reply as Dib revved the engine. "She'll be fine in the morning."

The silence falling between them was heightened by wailing wind as Dib sped through the deserted streets. Zim stared at the human for a long time before giving up on the empty face. He soon lost track of where they were but in his drug-addled state, he didn't mind. Rolling his head back, Zim stared at the blur in Technicolor flashing overhead with its glowing neon and mirrored city glass. The pretty colors soon dulled into a blue bruised night shot full of stars that mesmerized Zim as they streak past. When the car began to whip around the gut-wrenching turns of a forested hillside, he groaned at the odd pleasantness of being rocked back and forth. An iron archway flashed briefly above him, but Zim was too far-gone to figure out what it meant. By the time Zim became aware that they had stopped, Dib was already across the barren drive and vanishing into the sinister prison-like building looming out of the ground.

There came the creak of wheels as Dib reappeared, pushing a wheelchair down the ram and to Zim's door. The alien made a weak attempt at clawing his captor when Dib lifted him into the chair, then he gave up, letting his arms fall limply to either side while they crunched over the gravel and up the ramp. Dib pushed him into an elevator and down a darkened hallway to an examining room. Zim sat alone in the dimness while Dib bustled around the room, listening nervously the tinkle of metal touching metal and the snap of rubber gloves. Then Dib switched on the lights.

Zim hissed in dulled rage at the painfully sudden illumination but he remained rag-doll limp when Dib pulled him from the chair onto a sheet-covered gurney. A quick set of tugs removed Zim's coat and laid him flat. He dimly felt his gloves being jerked off next, along with the boots. Catching sight of paramedic scissors glinting in Dib's hand, he tried to slap them away from the human only to find his limbs were numb to the point of being wet noodles. He couldn't even lift his head to see Dib cut away the shirt and tie in three precise rips. Then came the tingling smoothness of scissors traveling up his legs to the waistband of his pants. The sting of cold air on his bare skin made Zim wince. Yet, when vinyl covered tips of Dib's fingers trailed up from his thigh to his neck, the cold melted into shameful heat. It got worse when those horrible, probing fingers ran across Zim's face and yank off his wig. Zim tried to scream in outrage as Dib pried out the contact of his remaining eye, but nothing came out. Dib flicked it away and reached toward the eyepatch…only to have his hand caught in remarkably powerful snap of teeth.

"Cute" muttered Dib. His free hand slammed over Zim's jaw and squeezed until Zim was forced to let go. Zim mentally cursed himself for not taking at least a finger.

Dib reached again and tore off the eyepatch. He prodded at the puckered lids, pulling them apart to look inside. Studying the empty socket, he slid a finger inside and ran it around the chrome to the frayed cord of synthetic optic nerves. Howling in pain, Zim twisted his face away from Dib's hand.

"Your eyes are fake…" Dib grumbled softly. Running a hand back down Zim's body, he asked, "What else is fake, space boy?" He stopped, palm resting over the slit in his belly. "Are you a 'boy'? According to modern psychology, gender identity is a nebulous concept. Given that, those excessive declarations of masculinity might be taken as symptomatic of an extreme rejection of your physiological sex in favor of your perceived 'natural' gender. In other words, you might be a transsexual who is a biological female but identifies yourself as being male." The look of impotent rage on Zim's face made Dib smile. "I could be wrong. After all, the entire theory was developed based on research of _human _subjects. Plus, this is the first time I've had you in a position where I can physically examine you without getting mauled in the process, so I can't come to any real conclusion on _that_ at the moment." His fingers flexed slightly, causing the alien to jerk and twitch.

Zim fervently wished the human would stop, yet groaned unhappily when Dib suddenly pulled his hand away and stepped around the table. It wasn't long before he realized that Dib was strapping his wrists down. In a futile effort, Zim attempted to fight back but it only made Dib yank the straps tighter. Satisfied that the alien was immobilized, Dib lazily paced around the table.

"What next?" Dib hummed, pausing to pick a scalpel from the tray nearby. "Should I start at the bottom?" He pressed the blade lightly against the sole of Zim's foot, then let it barely scratch over the skin to his thigh as he mused, "Or maybe I ought to began right in the middle…" He drew tight spirals across the shuddering bell. Stopping beneath Zim's ribs, Dib increased the pressure a little. Then he eased up and slid the scalpel's tip across the sternum. "Then again, I might just start at the top…" With a steady hand, Dib traced the curve of each collarbone. He grabbed Zim's arm suddenly and pressed the scalpel against his throat. "How about I end it all right now!"

Zim gasped and drew back, but not before Dib had made a shallow cut just under his jaw.

"Do you think it's going to be that easy, Zim?" he snickered, licking at the wound. "I'm just getting started!"

"Bastard!" The word rang out with unexpected strength. Recognizing his mistake, Zim lapsed into a sullenly silence.

"For a second there," Dib sneered, pulling back. "It seemed like the toxin's worn off …"He pinched one of the alien's antennae between his fingers. The scalpel glittered as it brushed lightly against the feathery thin feeler. "Well, Zim? Are you going to say something or am I going to have to start slicing things off?"

Grinding his teeth, Zim did his best to ignore the sensations coursing down his spine. It was only when Dib gave the antennae a sharp twist that Zim finally burst out, "Ooooo…ah! ALRIGHT! You win! I'm defeated! Now quit doing _that_! Please! NARGH! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE…_STOP!_"

"What? This?" Again, Dib twisted it, making Zim howl. "Or this…" He barely scraped the scalpel against Zim's antennae.

"Just STOP!" Zim screamed, then panted in relief when Dib let go. The **_hunger_** had swollen to aching proportions from the human's tortures. Looking up at the nasty, smug grin on Dib's face made Zim groan miserably.

"Interesting," muttered Dib. "Are you actually _enjoying_ this?"

"NO!" Zim shrieked. "How dare you suggest that I, ZIM, would ever take pleasure in being assaulted, kidnapped, imprisoned and tortured by a disgusting, lowly worminess like you! The only joy I feel is in the CONQUEST! I'd never give you the satisfaction of hearing me beg!"

Dib laughed. "But you did beg."

"Ha! I was…eh, lulling you into a false sense of security!" countered Zim lamely. "Yeah. I've just been playing along the whole time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike! The MIGHTY Zim simply toys with you! I could snap this pathetic bounds in a matter of seconds, kill you, and not even break a sweat!"

"Then do it."

Zim blinked. He hadn't expected Dib to call his bluff, but pride forced him to back it up. Writhing and pulling against the restraints, Zim put on an impressive show of trying to escape only to collapse back onto the table in defeat. He tried a few more times before finally giving up. "It appears that I've underestimated the strength of this bindings…"

"Bullshit." Zim glared at him, but Dib continued unfazed. "You're not even trying."

"LIES! FILTHY MONKEY LIES!" roared Zim. "Why I ought to…"

They both stared quietly at the fist Zim had been waving at his enemy.

"Well! Look at that!" Zim barked, laughing weakly. "Must've been loose or something…"

Zim's laughter took an even more timid shake when he saw the look in Dib's eyes. The human leaned back a little, smiling in grim pleasure as he fingered the scalpel. "Well? Aren't you going to kill me now, _Zim_?"

"It's not fair!" snapped Zim. "You have a knife and I'm unarmed!"

"You have spider legs, intensive combat training, sharp pointy teeth, and claws. And the stuff in you PAK."

The alien ground his teeth. "You…you probably tampered with them while I was lying helpless on the table!"

"I didn't! I never even touched your back! But now that you mention it…" Snapping the glove off his claw, Dib grabbed Zim by the shoulder and deftly pops open his PAK. As he reached his fingers in, Dib looked the alien in the eye with a smile fresh from hell. "Now, let's see what you've got in here…"

Zim screamed and trashed wildly when Dib ran a claw through a series of pain receptor grooves. Then the claws shifted from the grooves, sliding into a coupling node that caused Zim to stop breathing for several agonizing moments before the human pulled his fingers away. Glaring death at the human between gasps, Zim was unprepared for the next prod which sent the hapless Irken into violent, gibbering convulsions. On the upside, said convulsions also caused him to ripped loose the rest of the bonds.

Dib's grin kept widening like an alligator's mouth. "Having fun yet, _Zim_? I know I am."

"I'm going kill you…" sputtered Zim, spraying bits of foamy spit at the human. He began laughing and froth madly. "You know that, right? I'm really going to tear your fucking organs out in alphabetical order starting with the slimy piece of blacken filth you call a heart. And this time, I **_mean it_**."

"Then do it." Dib pressed the scalpel into Zim's hand. He sat down next to the dumbstruck alien and stripped down to his waist. He turned toward Zim, leaning closer so the alien had unimpeded access to his torso. "You've been waiting years to kill me, Zim. Now's your chance! Go ahead. Rip my fucking heart out. Slit my throat, or tear my belly open and laugh as you watch me bleed to death. I don't care."

Tightening his grip, Zim reached out and touched the point of the scalpel lightly underneath Dib's ribs. There were scars crisscrossing the human's abdomen from their last battle, still raw and pink against the fish-belly paleness. He let the scalpel glided over them and let it rest on the set of small triangular scars going up Dib's side. Shifting the deadly instrument around in his hand so that it pointed away as he traced their outlines. "I should've let you die."

"Why didn't you?" The human's voice was soft yet cold.

Zim said nothing, holding the scalpel up between them for a moment before flinging it with enough force to lodge it in a steel cabinet. He wrapped his legs around Dib's waist and drew the human closer.

"You tell anyone about this, Dib," he snarled, nipping at the human's earlobe. "And I'll make sure your death is long and very, very painful."

Dib merely laughed, letting Zim pull him down on top of him.

--


	14. Morning After Blues

Sex now. Violence, too. And—'Dum-Dum-Dun!'—THE RETURN OF TAK! (What? You didn't think I was gonna write her out, did you?)

**Chapter 14: The Morning After Blues**

"If you tell anyone about this, Dib, I'll make sure your death is long and painful."

And Dib laughed. He knew better than to laugh off this threat when Zim used that _tone_—that strangled, weird voice—but with the alien pulling him down closer, he was giddy in victory. Right then, he really didn't give a shit what Zim would do to him later…

It felt good to touch Zim again. The sensation of spongy smoothness underneath fingertips, seemingly fragile until he dug his fingers in deeper to meet the resistance of strangely firmer tissue beneath. Blood swelled new bruises and beaded out of cuts left to mark the passage of his hands. Mouth, teeth and tongue followed after fingers to bite and break skin and lap out of veins which pulsed in irregular beats from a different heart. His hands slipped lower to probe into unknown and unplumbed regions, dragging out new pains and amusements with surgical precision. The difference between what was alien and what may be human were subtle but shamefully clear when placed under such intimate scrutiny. The curves of the body, the twisting at each touch, the screams…

Dib didn't have to make it hurt like this. He didn't have to drag it out so long. But he had promised to make Zim suffer and Dib didn't want to disappoint. By the time he was ready to finish, the alien had screamed and howled himself hoarse. There may not have been the crying out when he rammed in, but Dib got the point when Zim clawed open his back. They both pounded and tore at each other in an eerie quiet disturbed only by the throb of pants and moans. The climax came too soon in Dib's opinion yet it certainly was intense.

It took forever before Dib could get the shaking dizziness under control enough to slid off Zim and stumble to the sink. Flinching at the sting of cold water, he quietly cursed himself for not fixing the furnace as he cleaned the mess off. Dib noted idly that it looked like he'd been mauled a rabid wolverine, then wondered just how much damage he'd done to Zim. Not that he actually _wanted_ to see the end result—it was the _act_ not the _consequences_ he had wanted—but he had to make sure the alien hadn't died… Well, not yet anyway.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dib was more than a little shocked by display. Zim laid out on the table looking as if he'd been a schoolgirl extra from a tentacle hentai, broken tattered yet still alive. Then, in increments of aching slowness, the alien rolled onto his side and sat up with a faint groan. Antennae twitching, Zim stared vacantly at Dib's back for a moment before a drunkenly satisfied grin slithered across his face.

Unable to resist, Dib reached into his pants pocket.

"_If you tell anyone, Dib…"_

The flash made Zim's head jerk up. With more speed than Dib expected from the wounded, he lunged from the table and was at the human's throat. "Give me that! NOW!" rasped Zim, grabbing for the camera.

"Oh? This?" Smirking, Dib dangled the camera just out of Zim's reach. He dodged the alien's frantic attempts to take it away, savoring the way Zim kept bumping and squirming against him. Suddenly, he let the camera drop into Zim's hands and waited until Zim had finished stomping it to pieces before laughing in the alien's face.

Zim glared. There was a mixture of fury and hurt on his face.

"What?" Dib giggled. "You ought know me well enough by now to know I'd have cameras hidden all over the place."

"I can't fucking believe you! You dirty, stinking ape—" Zim stopped mid-rant. "Wait. Did you say 'cameras'? As in more than one? Hidden around this very room, recording the whole time we were…" He trailed off. Little tics of outrage yanked over Zim's livid green face. Then the twitching stopped and Zim stared straight at Dib, expression neutral.

The fist came next, a smudge of green hurtled dead center. Dib vaguely noted in the white flash before blacking out that those indestructible frames he got last year were certainly paying off now.

---

---

Gaz paused the game long enough to flex her new fingers for the twelfth time since they started walking back home. Despite the fact that the sky threatened rain and it'd take less time, she outright refused to accept Pepito's offer to drive her and G.I.R. back to the house. She honestly didn't want an encore appearance by breakfast today.

"We're _here_…" G.I.R. squealed when it kicked open the front door and charged into the darkness. It had barely gotten past the couch before a gleaming metal hand grabbed G.I.R. by the ears of its doggy suit. "JOY! Dib's home!"

Gaz calmly shut the door, put up her GameSlave2, and stared at her brother who stared from G.I.R. to her several beats. Half opening an eye, she finally spoke up. "Is that a tampon?"

"Yes." Dib hissed back, trying not to wince. "Zim kindly broke my nose and, as an added bonus, rebroke two ribs while I was on the floor."

Gaz laughed nastily.

He thrust G.I.R. toward her. "Your turn, sis: What is Zim's robot doing _here_?"

Before she could speak, G.I.R. snapped into duty mode and barked, "I was ordered by my Master to keep watch on the Gaz-human!"

Giggling, the robot went out of duty mode. "And we has been havin' lots and lots and lots of fun together! Like the time we went to TACOLAND and fought vampires and this **_bad man_** hurted Piggy, but he's okay now 'cuz Gaz helped him save his boyfriend! Oh, and then Gaz made you a present but then she got sick and you showed up, but you was acting all funny Dib-monkey, like you wasn't you at all! Then you told me to watch Gaz, which I did but I was thirsty, so I went to store to gets a Slurp Monkey and Todd—the **_bad man's_** boyfriend—he let's me have some free and brings me home, but Gaz was better so she decided to go out. And they looked at each really funny! You know, Todd had that same look on his face looking at Gaz that you always have when Master looks at you… That creepy eye thingie like you wanna kill them but wanna do that _other _thing with them too! Gaz went off to do stuff, so Todd waited a bit and then he went after her like you always used to do with Master, then Gaz had to go to the hospital 'cuz Master tore her arm off but the Professor-guy from TV gave her a new one and then we had to leave so we stayed the Antichrist … **and then**: We came home. The End."

"Thank you, G.I.R." Dib smiled coldly, then sent a jolt of electricity surging through the robot, letting it drop with a thump.

Gaz stared wide eyed at G.I.R.'s lifeless body on the floor. "Why did you kill him? He liked you."

"He?" The smile widened to a sneer. "It was a fucking robot. More specifically, it was _Zim's_ robot. And I like breaking Zim's things…" Dib lifted his foot to stomp G.I.R..

Growling, Gaz lunged for her brother and they both went sprawling over the back of the couch. She punched Dib about the face and chest as hard as she could. The sudden left hook caught her under the jaw, knocking Gaz flat on her back across the coffee table. Dib was on top of her in an instant, hands locked around her neck while he pressed one knee into her ribcage.

"Come on, bitch, why aren't you laughing now?" cackled Dib, throttling her. "Why aren't you laughing? It's funny! After all these years, I finally snap and go on the killing spree! First Dad, then Keef….and now _you_! Ha-ha! Wanna know why you have to die, sister dearest? You really wanna know?"

Gaz head-butted Dib hard enough that his grip loosened. Scrabbling to her feet, she shouted, "SECURITY!"

The snake-bot burst out of the ceiling, wrapping Dib up in its coils and suspending him above the floor. Gaz took a second to regain her breath and straighten her skirt before picking G.I.R. up. She ignored Dib's cursing as he struggled to get free and headed toward the lab.

"I knew it!" screamed Dib. "You were fucking him!"

She stopped in her tracks, but didn't look at him. "Who? G.I.R.?"

"_Zim_!"

Gaz turned slowly, her face twisted in utter revulsion. "Okay, time you came out of your little psycho fantasy world, Dib. I Never Fucked Zim. The very thought makes me want to projectile vomit. I only want him _dead._"

"You lying little whore."

She started to say something, then threw up her hands. "Whatever. There's no getting through to you. You're too fucking jealous."

"Jealous?" Dib shrieked. "I'm not jealous! I'm fucking pissed off!"

"No. You're jealous. And afraid," hissed Gaz, keeping her distance. "You're absolutely terrified that you're going to lose Zim. You're scared that he's going to lose interest, that he's going to go off to Ugh or whatever shithole planet he's from and leave you behind… Just like when Mom…"

Gaz stopped, choking up.

"When Mom _died_." Dib finished. He let out a nasty little laugh. "You know Gaz, I think this is the first time I've ever seen you actually show a human emotion. It's pretty scary."

She glared. "Mom's not dead. Not in any normal sense. She's… It'd be easier to show you."

With a snap of her fingers, the snake-bot dropped to the floor and, with Dib still firmly in its grasp, slithered after Gaz as she walked toward the lab with G.I.R. cradled like a baby in her arms. She led Dib deep within the bowels of the lab, past chambers brimming with scientific devices, test tubes, and various testing equipment. Finally, they reached a room of terrible non-Euclidean angles dominated by a dais of reptilian green-black stone upon which rested a gigantic, balefully glowing…

"Lava Lamp!" Dib barked, staggering to his feet after the snake-bot dropped him. "You brought me down here to see a fucking lava lamp?"

Gaz said nothing, only glowered hellishly and pointed toward the lamp.

Rolling his eyes, Dib trudged up the dais steps. He crossed his arms disdainfully and stared at the vile purple globs bobbing around in the briny green liquid. To his amazement, the globs began to pool together, shifting and bubbling in a noxious explosion of half-formed limbs and other, nameless things. At last, the purple mass congealed into to shape of a sleeping woman. Dib moved closer, staring in mute horror at the warmly familiar face that used to lean down to give him a good night kiss.

"I wouldn't get _too_ close." Gaz muttered, appearing at his side.

Dib shouted in surprise, then whirled on her. "What the fuck did **_he_** do to her?"

"Dad didn't do anything to her."

"LIAR!" screamed Dib. "You'd say anything to defend the bastard! You were always Dad's favorite!"

"Actually, Dib, _you_ are his favorite child. I'm just his '_funny_' one." Gaz's voice echoed mournfully through the room. She turned and looked at their mother floating placidly in her brine filled tube. "But that's beside the point. Dib, have you ever wondered why your head's so big? Or why I'm so fucking antisocial? Or the fact that we've both got weird, spooky supernatural powers? I mean, you can't say that's normal."

"I personally blame Dad and his meddling with genetics for that…" Dib hissed.

"Well, yeah. But it's not like Mom didn't have a hand in it… They both collaborated on the pre-natal work and they, eh, _donated_ the components, if you get me." She grinned at little at the grossed-out look on her brother's face. "See, Dad is quite abnormal as far as human beings go and Mom….Well, she's really never was _human_…"

"What's this you're telling me, Gaz? That Mom turned into a ravening slime beast and Dad couldn't bring himself to kill her, so instead he went and put her in a giant glass jar like another one of his lab specimen?"

"Yeah."

For a stretch of several minutes, Dib could only gawk at her. Then he sat down with a bitter little smile. "Great. Not only was Dad an insensitive asshole, but he also kept Mom laying around the lab like a fucking freak show exhibit!"

"Actually, Mom asked him to do it. This used to be her workroom."

"Workroom? It looks more like the setting for a witch's Black Mass."

Gaz gave him an annoyed look. "That what Mom did."

Arching an eyebrow in surprise, Dib muttered, "Are you saying Mom was an evil witch?"

"I wouldn't say she was exactly _evil_… Witch, yes. Malevolent, definitely. But not evil." Gaz looked down on her brother, her face twisting into a wicked grin. "I take after her just as much as you take after Dad."

"I'M NOTHING LIKE DAD!" Dib shrieked, leaping to his feet.

"Yes you are." It was the flat, cool way she said it that made Dib cringe back. "You are just as melodramatic, anal-retentive, megalomaniacal, and freakish as Dad."

"You forgot bloodthirsty."

Gaz shook her head. "No, we get that from Mom."

Turning away from her, Dib stared at their mother as she bobbed oblivious in her tank. He let the silence stretch out then asked, "If I'm his favorite, why didn't Dad ever tell me? Why does he always tell you these things?"

"He doesn't. Usually, I find out this crap by accident, then Dad tries to explain it away when I ask him about it. Take for example how I found Mom: G.I.R. was stupidly playing treasure hunt with some parts I chased him down here. Speaking of G.I.R.," Gaz shifted the robot around in her arms as she began to leave. "I'll be in the upper part of the lab trying to fix him."

Dib laughed sourly. "I try to kill you and murdered Dad, but all you truly care about is Zim's nutty little minion?"

"Dad isn't dead," sighed Gaz. "He's in a hermetically sealed ICU chamber at the Membrane Labs until they finish fixing his respirator mask. Oh, and by the way Dib, if G.I.R.'s circuits are scrambled beyond any hope of repair, I'll make you wish Zim had snapped your fucking neck…" On that note, she walked off, leaving her brother to brood.

---

---

Hurt.

Such a tiny word and yet it covered the wide range of things Zim was feeling. His body had been torn, he'd been violated in almost every since of the term, but Zim had been expecting this from Dib. Actually, he'd been looking forward to it. Masochistic tendencies aside, he needed the human to do these things because now he felt justified in what he was planning to do from this moment on.

There'd be no flying by the seat of his tights this time. Zim had carefully, cunningly thought through every detail. First, he'd explain what happened to the Tallest. That would easy once Skoodge arrived with the Execution Squad, since he knew from the way Tak went off that any decent Irken wouldn't stand to let another of their race be defiled by the enemy. All he had to do was play up the fact that the Dib had forced him to submit and that he tried to submit but was too drugged to save himself. Dib had admitted to everything on the recording of the "assault" which Zim had thoughtfully taken with him when he left the human bleeding on the floor. With that as evidence to back up his claims, it shouldn't be had to get his fellow Irkens on his side.

Then, with the support of the Armada at last, Zim would conquer the Earth to regain his honor. It was the perfect excuse…not that you ever _needed_ an excuse to conquer the lesser species of the Universe. Once he this miserable planet firmly under his MIGHTY boot heel, Zim'd deal personally with Dib. Oh, there were so many things he wanted to do with the human. Maybe—no, he'd definitely make Dib a 'pet'—he even had a collar around here somewhere—then it would be Zim's turn to make _him_ beg…

The thought of the tortures he'd inflict on Dib made Zim giggle. The giggle slow twisted into a chuckle then rose up in a laugh of utter evil abandon that rang throughout the base.

Suddenly, someone began to clap from the darkness. Zim twisted around sharply, drawing and leveling a laser at the intruder.

"Good show, Zim." Tak spoke pleasantly, apparently enjoying the confused look on Zim's face. "Allowing yourself to be disgraced to gain sympathy from the rest of Irk, then parleying it into righteous anger to get the Armada to come conquer Earth for you… I never would've thought you capable of come up with such a brilliant scam."

Huffing up, Zim turned away. "Here I am, the victim, and you make it sound like I planned this all from the start. Though it would be a stroke of sheer GENIUS…"

"Don't lie to me, Zim! I know what you're planning to do!" snarled Tak. "I heard everything, right down to disgusting bits where you had the Dib-human chained up to a bed…"

"Okay! So maybe I did—HEY! I _NEVER _said anything about the chains!"

"You thought it!" Tak barked, then caught her slip.

Zim blinked. "Eh? What was that?"

Remaining silent, Tak only glared.

"You can hear thoughts?" An ugly smile crept over his face. "Well, that's interesting. Go on, Tak. Tell me what I'm thinking now."

She snorted. "You? _Thinking_! That's a contradiction in terms. Besides, it's obvious you're the type who is into that sort of aberrant sexual behavior."

"Admit it!" screamed Zim, missing the crack Tak made on his personal life. "You're a telepath!"

"How **_dare _**you accuse me of such a thing!" Tak growled as she got up in his face. "They screen potential telepaths pre-Smeeting! And even if one developed such abilities after being smeeted, then they would have been discovered and…" She drew back with a shudder.

"And then the Thought Police would take you to the Brain Banks, where you're brains would be removed, lobotomized, and used as a processor in the Great Matrix." Zim finished cheerfully. "That's why you've kept it secret, isn't it? So you wouldn't be 'honored' by becoming one with the Control Brains."

Tak began to back away, her voice going shrill with panic. "Wait Zim! You don't understand…"

"Oh, I understand…" he cooed in a sweet tone, cornering her against the computer console. "You've been lying to everyone, hiding the fact that you were a telepath to avoid being used in the Matrix. You know, this is treason Tak."

"But you…you can't…"

Gently, Zim cupped her face in his palm and leaned closer. In a unpleasantly affectionate way, he started playing with her antenna. "Do you have any idea how much your brains is worth to the Empire, Tak? The reward for turning in a telepath can be as high as thirteen _trillion_ monies. Not millions, Tak, but _trillions_… And all I'd have to do is…" He grabbed both antenna and yanked her head back, pressing a claw firmly against the hollow of her throat. "There's just one thing I have got to know, Tak:" Zim paused ominously, listening to her whimpers of terror then blurted, "How'd you get out of that pain amplifier anyway?"

He let go and doubled over in pain when Tak's knee smashed into his groin.

"You BASTARD!" she screamed down at him. "I thought you were going to…to…" She made a noise of sheer disgust at the thought.

"Going to what? Kill you?" squeaked Zim.

She began to correct him that about what she thought he'd been trying to do, but the very idea was too disgusting for her to even contemplate. Instead Tak sank down into a chair and wait for Zim to recover before she started talking. "Alright Zim, I'll level with you. I escaped that pain amplifier you so thoughtfully launched me into space in after being picked up by a passing garbage scow. The captain foolishly released me and I used my…eh, _talents_ to manipulate the crew into killing each other off, then sent out a distress signal.  
"Can you imagine my surprise when the one who answers my call for 'help' turns out to be none other than Skoodge, on his way to Irk. He was more than happy to let me tag along with him to pick up he new assistant…Unfortunately, barely an hour after we left Irk on the way back to Earth, she step out of an airlock and apparently died a horrible, freeze-drying death."

"Geez, Tak," muttered Zim. "You had to kill that guy too?"

"Actually, when I told him who her new boss was going to be, she chose suicide rather than wait for the inevitable…"

"Working for Skoodge can't be that bad."

"No, but working for _you_ is." Before Zim could ask anymore stupid questions, Tak cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Don't you know, Zim? No…I can see by that look on your face that you don't. You see Zim, you've living proof of the adage that only the most incompetent officers in an army are promoted to the highest ranks."

"What are you talking about?"

Screaming in frustration, Tak leapt up. "YOU STUPID WANKER! YOU'VE BEEN PROMOTED!"

"Promoted?" asked Zim blandly. "To what? Junior Fry-lord?"

"NO! You're the new Supreme Commander of the Imperial Space Marines!" roared Tak.

"I am?"

"Yes!"

"And this—" He held out the packet Mini-moose had shown him. "Is my new uniform?"

"Yes!"

"And a personal assistant?"

"Yes!" she snapped. "What the hell do you think I'm doing here? They gave me the job after the other one's death."

"And I'm going to get a pay raise, right?"

"All that and then some!" hissed Tak bitterly. "You'll not only be paid seven-times the yearly wages of the average officer, but you also get an obscenely huge expense budget and unlimited access to all weapon and supply depots in the Irken Empire. Plus—and this is the ultimate irony of ironies— you're getting full breeding rights! Including first pick of partners... after the Tallest, of course."

"I can finally get a battle tank?" Zim mumbled dreamily.

"You can get a whole _fleet_ of battle tanks."

He smiled widely in childish glee. "Well, what the hell are you waiting for! Call and get me my weapons of mass destruction! We've got ourselves a planet to conquer!"

"I can't do that. I'm afraid we have direct orders to return to Irk _immediately_."

"Aren't you forgetting something, Tak?" Zim purred. "You know, I am now your commanding officer…"

Tak's lip curled in disgust. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I ever call you 'sir'. And we have orders to return to Irk, pick up three legions of marines and rendezvous with the Massive for an as yet undisclosed mission. Effective _immediately_, Zim!"

"Uh-huh," he mumbled absently as he checked the time and date. Then Zim turned and walked away.

"Where the hell are you going!"

"To get dressed. School starts in twenty minutes and I have to clean the human stink off…"

"School? _School!_" shouted Tak, chasing after him. "Are you out of your mind? We've got **_orders_** to return home Zim. **_HOME!_** Don't you want to see Irk again?"

For a moment, Zim pondered the question then shrugged. "Eh, no. Not really."

"Let me see if I understand you:" muttered Tak. "You've been in exile for over a decade, doomed to live out the rest of your life as a miserable outcast from the magnificence of our beloved homeworld Irk, the very pinnacle of Galactic civilization. And now that you're being offered the chance not only to return, but to return in a blaze of triumphant glory as the new Commander of the Imperial Space Marines—a position which, while wrought with innumerable perils to your person, is one of the most prestigious post in the Irken military—you're going to blow it off because you have school?"

"Oh, I'll go back to Irk eventually." Zim hissed. "But I still have things to do here Tak. Oh, so much I must do…"

"It's the Dib human, isn't it?"

"What? No! This isn't… I mean…" sputtered Zim before he huffed up again. "Dib is nothing to me."

"So why haven't you killed him yet?" asked Tak. "You've had plenty of opportunities. The Dib human was in a coma for months, according to what Skoodge told me. It would have been easy, Zim, so _easy_. Just sneak in, inject a lethal dose of, say, morphine into his IV and be rid of the pest. Dying in one's sleep is a luxury rarely given to those who rebel against the Empire. It would be _mercy._"

"No," he sneered. "It would be _wrong_. Dib deserves better. He is one of the greatest warriors I've ever had to face in combat, and he deserves the chance to die in battle."

Suddenly, she began laughing. Zim stared at Tak in shock.

"What's so funny?"

"You. You've said that all before, Zim!" she gasped with a nasty grin. "And I never quite got it till now."

Zim blinked stupidly. "Got what?"

Leaning in, Tak spoke sharply. "I now see the REASON, Zim. The reason you let the Dib live on to degrade and torment you. The reason why you don't want leave this miserable dirtball yet…" She giggled a bit madly. "It's not about revenge. Or even conquest. It's about Dib. You stay because of Dib."

"LIES!" Zim screamed, flushing with rage. "I STAY BECAUSE IT IS MY MISSION TO DESTROY THE EARTH!"

She only laughed at this outburst. "How amusing. You still honestly believe that the Tallest sent _you_ on a real mission."

"Actually, I know the mission was a lie. In a way I always knew that…" There was a sad droop to Zim's antenna. They snapped upright suddenly as he gave Tak the most deranged kind of looks that was neither a smile or a leer but something utterly insane. "But this isn't about Operation Impending Doom 2! This… This is personal, Tak. _PERSONAL_! A matter of pride, if you will. And I'm sure you can understand that… After all, pride is all you have left, isn't Tak?"

"At least I have that!" snarled Tak. "You, on the other hand, are nothing more than a shameless xenophile. A filthy pervert and traitor to your own race! You're a complete pompous ass who can't see past your own planet sized ego! You're an idiot and a bastard! You, Zim, are the single worst Invader in living memory!"

"And insane." Zim added mildly. "You left insane."

With a snort, she turned away. "Well, you surprise me yet again Zim. I never thought you'd admit that."

Zim remained silent.

"Now then… Since you are too stupid to hypnotize, I'm going to have to use more mundane methods of persuasion." Pulling out a large, alien device from her PAK, Tak turned back to him. She thumbed the 'ON' lever, create a large arch of electricity to run up the two metal spikes. "We've wasted enough time already, so let's go over the options you have: Option 1, you come along quietly and follow orders like a good little soldier for a change; or, Option 2, I use this stunner on you a couple times and drag you back to Irk in chains… And, personally, I'm hoping you pick the latter."

"What about Option 3?" asked Zim.

"Option 3! There's not an—" Before she could say any more, Zim lunged for the stunner. Tak struggled to prevent him from getting it out of her hand, twisting and clawing to get Zim off of her until the stunner wound up slipping from her grasp and clattering across the floor. Zim broke away and made a grab for it, but Tak jumped him just as he turned. She got in a few good punches before catching a massive jolt of electricity.

Putting in a few more jolts just in case, Zim tossed the stunner aside. He dragged Tak's unconscious body into a storeroom, locking and sealing the door, then he called for Skoodge.

"Present, commander, _sir!_" barked the lard-ball as he saluted awkwardly. "What are your orders, _sir_!"

He pointed to the storeroom, voice straining and even more frenzied than normal. "Guard this door. And, no matter what you hear, no matter how much she pleads, don't let Tak leave that room, understand?"

Skoodge gave him a funny look. "But the Tallest…"

"DO NOT QUESTION ME!" screamed Zim. Satisfied that Skoodge was now adequately terrified into obedience, he turned on his heels and marched smartly to the elevator. Once back in the 'house' level, Zim snatched Minimoose out of the air and began petting on its moosey head like some low-rent Bond villain.

"Moose, my most faithful minion…" he purred sweetly, walking toward the door. "We are about to embark on a campaign terror the likes of which that miserable human has never know before. But first, off to school!"

Laughing maniacally, Zim got into the El Camino with Minimoose still clutched in his hand and drove toward the High Skool.

---

---


	15. A Terrible Thing To Waste

I eat food.

**Chapter 15: _A Kiss Is A Terrible Thing to Waste…_**

"Is this really necessary?" Gaz asked, fiddling with something in G.I.R.'s head.

Dib ignored her, popping in a contact lens. Even back in the green room, he could hear the shuffle and murmur as the crowd filed into the Hi-Skool auditorium. He let out a little sigh.

"You don't need to do this," she continued. "There weren't any witness…"

He turned and looked at his sister for the first time since they'd left the house. His reply was sharp and bitter. "That doesn't matter. I've done things – horrible, _criminal_ things – and I have to confess. It's the right thing to do."

"Okay. So, why not go to the police?"

"Because it has to be this way! I've already given it a lot of thought, and the only punishment that fits is trail by the Court of Public Opinion." Dib slumped a bit. "Besides, I doubt the cops will believe me."

Gaz shrugged. "Fine. Do you mind, then, if I join the angry mob that forms after you make your announcement?"

"Yeah, sure…Whatever." Looking like the noble tragic hero, Dib headed out of the green room. The moment he stepped onstage, the crowds began cheering in wild joy and flashbulbs exploded in a blinding burst of lights. Dib made it to the podium and waited until the uproar died down before he began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming on such short notice. I can see by the welcome that you're all glad to see I'm back…" He noted that only the host of Mysterious Mysteries seemed genuinely unhappy about this. "You shouldn't be. In fact, I suggest you start getting the torches and rope ready, because by the time I'm finished, there's gonna be a hanging."

Laughter fluttered through the crowd.

"That wasn't a joke." Silence hit the room with a leaden thump. Dib took a breath and plunged on. "For years, the world has regarded me as a hero – Savior of All Humankind, according to some. A few of you even call me the Chosen One or think I'm the Second Coming… I'm not. I'm no hero. I'm nothing more than a royal bastard, a disappointment to my family and a disgrace to the scientific community. For years, I have lied to you all! I've kept a secret so horrible, so utterly repulsive that it has twisted my private life into a hideous montage of deception and paranoia! But today, I'm coming clean! Today I stand before you all to confess that—"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" screamed a voice from the back of the crowd.

Dib stared in stunned horror. "Zim?"

"YES! ZIM!" the alien barked, storming the stage. He knocked aside the security guards like flies and grabbed Dib by the shirt, shaking him violently. "YOU ROTTEN LYING MONKEY! You…you told me you wouldn't do this! You said… you said…"

"Uh, Zim…could we talk about this in private?"

"NO! WE TALK NOW DIB!" Sobbing angrily, Zim released his grip on the boy. "You swore not to tell them! That they didn't DESERVE to know! They're SHEEP! Mindless, filthy, unworthy SHEEP! And now I find you here, ready to out me!"

Dib winced at the innuendo-laden phrase. "Calm down! This…this isn't what you think, Zim."

"SILENCE! I know exactly what you're doing! You've waited your whole wretched existence for this day! Well, I refuse to stand by and let you unmask me so I choose to expose myself!"

"Please!" shouted an outraged granny in the front row. "There are ladies present!"

"Look, Zim, I can explain—NARGH!"

Flinging Dib off stage, Zim took over the podium. The grin on his face could only be called 'psychotic.' " Greetings, miserable fleshsacks! I am ZIM! You all may recognize me as the insignificant and perfectly NORMAL human dirtboy…but it has all been a clever ruse! Behind this INCREDIBLE disguise lurks an elite alien warrior hell-bent on destroying your world! BEHOLD!" With a dramatic flourish, Zim whipped off his wig and contact lens. "Now, quake with FEAR, tiny fools!"

There was a brief silence, then the heckling began.

"BOO!" – "Get off the stage, ya' jerk!"—"Give use DIB!"—"Aliens ain't REAL! Dib said so!"

"THE DIB PIG LIES!" screamed Zim, leaping on top of the podium. "He was…uh, He was BRAINWASHED! Yes! I brainwashed the Dib with my SUPERIOR alien technology!" He smiled as the crowd gasped. "And what's more, it was I who unleashed the cataclysmic cuteness that was Ultra-Mega Peepi upon the city! I also was the mastermind behind every other disaster that has befallen New Jersey! Like that plague of vampire squirrels! And the Thanksgiving Day parade debacle! You know… with those guys and their giant robot fighting the hideous mutated parade balloon-spore monsters… And, uh—I also caused RAISING GAS PRICES! Yeah! And further more, all those freakishly brutal murders lately were my doing too!"

A reporter raised his hand. "Even those unsolved 'HAPPY NOODLE BOY' slayings?"

"Especially those!" Zim shrieked gleefully running with it. "And when Dib finally realized what was happening, I laid a trap for him and his fucking bitch of a girlfriend which resulted in the coma from which there would have been no awaking had it not been for Dib's MEDDLESOME father! Yes! It was I who attacked Membranes Labs and nearly killed your beloved television host Professor Membrane!"

The crowd began to grumble dangerously and a few started passing around pitchforks and readying the torches.

"Wait!" barked the host of Mysterious Mysteries. He turned to Zim. "How can we believe you? What proof do we have that you're really an alien and not just some nutcase with a freakish skin condition?"

"Oh come on! What kind of moron would crash the Dib's press conference and public declare he was a homicidal space invader bent upon unleashing DOOM upon Earth unless it was TRUE!"

While the crowd deliberated on this, Dib jumped back on stage and confronted Zim. "You jerk! You stupid jerk! I wasn't going to tell them the truth about you being an alien!"

The host of Mysterious Mysteries jumped on this slip. "You mean what he's saying is **TRUE**! And you knew the whole time? Lying to keep it secret all the while knowing what kind of deranged creature was on the loose, menacing the decent, peaceful citizens of Earth?"

"Uh, well…" Frantically, Dib strained to think up a good excuse, but Zim cut him short with a callous laugh.

"Of course he knew!" gloated Zim. "The Dib stink feared that there'd be global panic should you PATHETIC vermin learn the TRUTH! Why do you think he covered it up in the first place?"

"Okay. That does make sense…" muttered the host. "But that still doesn't explain why you would blow your cover like this! Don't you have a reason for doing this? Like, I dunno, an ultimatum or manifesto to give? Or is there something you're holding the world hostage with orbital lasers or are threatening someone of vital importance?"

"Hmmm…You know, I really didn't have anything planned, but now that you mention it…" Smirking evilly, Zim deployed his spider legs to wade out into the stupidly staring crowd. He debated on whether to snatch a supermodel groupie or grab one of the many foreign dignitaries, then his vicious little eye caught sight of the Perfect Victim.

"HI GRETCHEN!" chirped Zim as he dropped down in front of her.

"Uh, hi Zim?" she replied with a confused little lisp.

"Say Gretchen, have you ever been a hostage before?"

She thought about it. "There was this one time—"

"GREAT!" Without hesitating, Zim wrapped her up in a cocoon of Irken duct tape and, flinging his captive over one shoulder, ran out the door. For a spilt second, the gather crowd stood there dumbly. Then all hell broke loose, with people rushing out screaming as the news crews scrambled to follow the scoop of the Millennium.

Looking extremely annoyed by this turn of events, Dib wearily trudged through the sea of human madness after Zim. It wasn't had to find the alien, considering that he took every possible chance to create havoc as he ran. The path of random massive property damage lead conveniently to the Bubs Burger Boy Corporate Headquarters. Dib took advantage of his new optics, catching sight of Zim waiting eagerly on top of the giant burger hoisted by an enormous Bubs Burger Boy. Dib frowned. "Oh, for fuck's sake…"

Dib went into the building and up to the security desk. "Excuse me, sir. Could you direct to the nearest access to your roof? There's a megalomaniacal alien with a hostage waiting for me."

"Take the service elevator on your left past the Poop machine."

"Thanks."

After a long and boring ride up 77 ½ stories, Dib walked out on the roof and up to the base of the Burger Boy.

"ZIM! Get down from there!"

The alien glared defiantly at him. "Make me, you filthy monkey!"

Groaning, Dib climbed up the Burger Boy and finally staggered onto the burger.

"Why didn't you fly?" demanded Zim.

"Huh?"

"FLY! Why aren't you flying to the rescue! Don't you care what happens to Gretchen!" Zim angrily thrust out the girl.

"Yes I care!" snapped Dib. "It's just that I…eh, well…" He muttered something his breath.

"Could you speak up?"

"I don't want to talk about it! Now, could you please quit being a moron and let Gretchen go?"

"Not until you answer my questions!" shrieked Zim. "Firstly: why did you lie to me? Not that I ever believed word out of your lying mouths of LIES, but it's the point! You told me that you **_hated_** these people so much they didn't deserve to know I am the bringer of their eventual DESTRUCTION! Secondly: how come you're not using your spooky, paranormal powers? And thirdly…what happened to your glasses?"

Dib blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're…you're not wearing your glasses!"

"Oh, yeah." He shrugged. "Well, I just thought I'd wear the contacts today. Not that I need corrective lens anymore, since I just replace my other eye with a bionic implant. Why do you care anyway?"

"Because!" Zim snapped. "Those glasses are part of who you are! You without glasses is just WRONG!"

"Does it really matter whether or not I'm wearing glasses!"

"You don't get it! You just don't get it! Without the glasses, you aren't Dib! They're part of your uniform! And you can't just change your uniform any fucking time you feel like it! The uniform defines who you are!"

"Look who's talking!" snarled Dib, pointing at the alien. "You're entire costume's changed!"

"That's different! I was promoted." Zim turned and ripped the tape off of Gretchen's mouth. "What do you think? Doesn't Dib not look like Dib?"

"I dunno…"she mumbled. Her face had turned a uniquely embarrassed shade of dark pink. "Personally, I thought you looked okay with glasses. But you don't look bad without them either."

"Useless girl." Sighing, Zim casually tossed her aside, not caring there it was a 77 ½ story drop to the concrete sidewalk below.

"GRETCHEN!" Leaping into action, Dib dove off the burger after her. They freefall sixteen stories before Dib finally got close enough to reach out and catch her. Right as his fingers touched her shoulder, Gretchen was captured by an unnatural blue glow and pulled away. Dib tumbled in mid-air, watching as Zim hauled Gretchen into his ship with a tractor beam. Cursing vehemently, he twisted about and shot toward the alien.

Meanwhile, watching the events from street level, the host Mysterious Mysteries rounded on his cameraman. "Are you getting this, Ted!"

"My camera…my beautiful camera!" sobbed the cameraman as he helplessly cradled it in his hands. "Come back, baby! Don't let it end this way! I LOVE YOU!"

Frantically, the host glanced around for a working camera but all the other news crews were having similar electrical problems. He realized to his mounting rage and horror that Dib, with his obviously electro-magnetic based super powers, had once again thwarted his attempts to gain the journalistic credibility he'd been striving for since he left grad school. "DAMN YOU, DIB! DAAAAAAAAAAMN YOOOOOOOU!"

"Wow," Zim commented, watching the display below as his arch rival hovered in front of him. "You're pissing off a whole lot of people today, aren't you Dib?"

"Shut up! I'm only doing this crap to help Gretchen."

"Why do you care about her?" sneered Zim. "Is she special to you? Or are you afraid she's gonna ended up like Mary-Ann?" When he didn't answer, the alien grinned nastily. "Aw, what's wrong? Did I make you mad?"

"I'm sick of playing these fucked up games with you, Zim!" Dib screamed.

The alien laughed in his face. "Too bad, wormboy! We're gonna keep playing until I decide the game's over!"

"But this is between you and me. Gretchen has nothing to do with it!"

"Does she love you?"

Dib stared in shock. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Does she LOVE you, Dib?" roared Zim.

"I…" Dib scratched his head. "You know, I never really thought about it."

"I never really thought about it." Zim hissed in a mocking voice. "God! You're such a stupid genius…"

Before Dib could ask what he meant by that, Zim reared back and knocked the human into the Bubs Burger Boy. He stumbled to his feet and was about to chase after the fleeing alien when he noticed a crack in the supports holding up the fast food mascot. Dib glanced helplessly between the growing crack and the vanishing ship, trying to decide what to do next. Finally, there was an awful 'crack!' and the Burger Boy plummeted toward the crowded street below.

"Fuck." Taking one last look at Zim's ship, Dib jumped off the building and propelled himself past the falling Burger Boy. He landed directly beneath it and, in an amazing display of telekinetic prowess, managed to hurl it safely away from the panic-stricken crowd.

The crowd took a second to figure out what just happened, then began cheering their hero. Amid the accolades and cries of 'Dib ROCKS!', Dib staggered into one of the news vans parked nearby.

Looking up from his brooding, the host of Mysterious Mysteries glared death at him. "You rotten bastard! The greatest story of my career and your fucking superpowers ruined it! And don't think giving me a fucking exclusive interview is going to make up for destroying my LIFE!"

Dib made as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat. It was then that the host noticed how sickly Dib was looking.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"Medic…" was all Dib managed before he collapsed to the floor.

The host of Mysterious Mysteries seriously considered his options for a moment, wondering if he could get away with dumping Dib in the City Cesspool. With a weary sigh, he turned to his assistant. "Aaron, get us to the hospital."

- - -

- - -

Consciousness seeped slowly back in agonizing drips. Dib groaned and sat up, sniffing down phlegm as he took in his surroundings. It was obvious he was in a hospital room and, given the heaps of get well gifts, he must've been out for at least a day. Then again, it may have been hours or may be even _months…_

It really didn't matter. Knowing Zim, Gretchen was probably dead by now, yet another victim to the alien's increasingly violent mood swings. Or maybe…

Dib shook away the thought angrily. Of all the inhumanly vile things Zim could subject a defenselessly innocent girl to, he wouldn't _dare _do **_THAT_**…would he? After all, he never expected Zim to be capable of vivisecting someone then gleefully displaying his handiwork simply because Dib was dating her. But he **_had._** And now Gretchen was at the mercy of an extraterrestrial madman whose jealousy could make even _Othello_ look like a cuddly Sesame Street skit. What made it all the worse was that Dib knew it was all his fault.

Gretchen didn't deserve this. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was always so sweet—dumb, but incredibly sweet. Out of all the people there, why pick her? The most obvious answer would be jealousy, but if so then why not take Zita? Neither she nor Dib ever hide the fact that they had been seeing each other on and off for the past three years. Even a myopic idiot like Zim could figure that out. But he didn't take the beautiful, popular and rich Zita. No, Zim had chosen sad, homely little Gretchen as his latest victim. Actually, the more Dib thought about it, the more he realized that Gretchen was the only human being that was nice to him _before_ the Fame and the Glory. She'd been the only person who treated him as if he belonged. Gretchen never called him 'crazy' or 'weird'… She always smiled and look shy when he'd say hi in the hallway.

"Does she love you?" Dib growled quietly as it became painful clear why Zim had stolen away Gretchen. "Poor, innocent little Gretchen. The Ultimate Nobody. The girl with a crush on you since kindergarten. And you stupid bastard, you let him get away. If only I had just let the Burger Boy fall… If only Zim hadn't burst in… If only… If only…" Then he laughed bitterly, staggering to the bathroom.

"_The loneliest words you will ever know, 'If only… If only it were so…',"_ he hummed as snatches of an old Meatloaf song came to mind. "_The emptiest word that there will ever be: 'It could have been me. It could have been me…_'" Dib glared at his reflection in the mirror. For the first time in years, Dib found himself filled with a righteous anger. "It **_should_** have been me, Zim."

But, despite the urgent NEED to punish the alien for what he'd done to Gretchen, Dib first had deal with another urgent NEED. Once that was done, he started to go and prepare to inflict some well deserved hurt when a crash with some mad giggling caught his attention. Creaking open the door slightly, Dib peeked out and saw G.I.R. sitting in the floor, its green doggie-suit soaked.

"Hey Master! Wanna play in the flowers with me!" squealed the robot as it readied to juggle more vases. The was an angry little grunt in reply.

Dib shut the door quietly. If G.I.R. was here with its 'Master', then that could only mean one thing: Zim was out there. Waiting.

Right on cue, there was an extreme close up in letter-box format of his eyes as the scene went red with a furious wailing synthesizer music signaling the Bride's…er, _Dib's_ overwhelming fury. With a roar, he leapt out of the bathroom ready to take on Zim with only his savage righteousness and a toothbrush only to recoil in surprise when he saw his visitor was Gaz.

"What?" she asked as Dib stood there gaping. "Can't I drop in to see you? You are my idiot brother, you know."

"Right…Wait!" Brandishing the toothbrush, Dib hissed. "The **_REAL_** Gaz would never visit sick relatives! Well, not unless she wanted to kill me…"

"Dib, if I wanted you dead, I would have done it YEARS ago."

"Very clever, but your little ploy won't work Zim." Grinning smugly, Dib twirled the toothbrush in his hand. "I must admit that your disguise is surprisingly good, but it's not good enough! You see, you've made one fatal mistake! By letting your idiot minion. tag along, you have unwittingly allowed yourself to be unmasked because the only person an Irken S.I.R. would call 'master' must be the Invader it has been assigned! G.I.R. keeps calling you 'Master' ergo the only person you can be is ZIM!"

She stared at him, then growled and gave him a swift kick in a certain delicate region. "Okay," he squeaked, reevaluating his previous statement from his private world of pain. "Maybe you are Gaz. But that doesn't explain why G.I.R. called you 'master'."

"Because when you fried him, G.I.R.'s main hard-drive was fragged and it wiped some of him memory. Once he rebooted, the programming caused him to imprint on the first being he saw: me. Like a duckling."

"I LOVES DUCKIES! QUACK-QUACK!" Giggling and quacking, G.I.R. launched into an insane little 'duckie' dance. For a climax, the robot somersaulted into the air and landed upon Dib's head. "Your head still smells like a wet puppy."

He stared at the robot a moment, then a brilliant idea struck. Dib grabbed G.I.R., grinning madly. "This is FANTASTIC! With Zim's robot on our side now, we have the perfect means for infiltrating his base and finding out what happened to Gretchen."

"No." Taking the robot away, Gaz glared. "You are not going to use him for your fucking Zim hunts."

"Aww…but I want to be a hound-doggie."

"Why not!" gasped Dib. "Can't you see that we have the advantage now? Zim doesn't know G.I.R. switched sides! Think of it, Gaz: You and I, together, can finally defeat the MADNESS that is ZIM! And save Gretchen, too!"

"Dib, if you knew what's happened the past couple of weeks…" Gaz sighed and went to the door. "Forget it. I don't have the time orthe patienceto explain.And don't think of asking me to help you fight Zim. I've got a datetonight."

"But the fate of the—Wait. Did you just say you have a _date_?"

"Yes."

Dib stared at her. "Uh, Gaz…this isn't some bizarre parallel universe, is it?"

She growled angrily. "And what's so bizarre about me dating?"

"Nothing…Well, okay, maybe I could see you dating. So, who is she anyway?"

"She? SHE!" Rounding on him, Gaz went postal. "And what the fuck gives you the right to ASSUME that I'm seeing a GIRL! Just because I like video games and other masculine past-times doesn't make me a lesbian!"

"But I always thought you and that Mandy girl were…"

Gaz went cold. "She and I have a _professional_ respect for each other. Nothing more. Besides, I seriously doubt Grim would appreciate it if I started going out with **_his_** 'best friend.'"

"Okay. I get the point." Cautiously, Dib asked, "So, what's his name?"

"Whose?"

"Your boyfriend's. He does _have_ a name, right?"

"It's Todd. And he's waiting in the lobby, so I'd better—"

"Introduce me to him?" Dib sneered, looking quite annoyed. "You know, so I can at least learn a little about the guy since you think he's important enough blow off saving the Earth."

She made a noise half-way between grunt and hiss. "Why should I?"

"Because I'm your older brother, that's why."

"And that," grumbled Gaz. "Is exactly the reason why I **_don't _**want him to meet my family."

"So Dad hasn't met this 'Todd' either?"

Looking strangely awkward, Gaz fiddled with G.I.R.'s ears. "Uh…well, they've kinda met…um, maybe not really…"

"How old is this guy, anyway?" barked Dib, pressing the advantage. "Don't tell me he's one of Dad's interns! Or is he one of those morons that 'volunteer' to play human guinea pig for dear-old Professor Membrane's latest experiment in eugenics. What would he say about his little girl going around with a test sub—"

When Dib came back to conciousness, he sat up and quietly thanked the inventor of Flexion frames again for making glasses that could withstand the force of a cybernetically enhanced sucker-punch. It was after several minutes that he realized G.I.R. was staring at him.

"What are you doing here? You're _master_ left."

"I know that. But I wanted to take you to met Squee-gee!"

Dib cock an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Squee!" repeated the robot with a huff. "You know, Master's boyfriend. For a genius you sure are dumb."

"Are you telling me you'll take me to this mysterious Todd's home and introduce us? And what's the catch?"

"Catch! Ooooo-EEEIEEE!" Whipping out a ball of tinfoil, G.I.R. started throwing it around happily.

Growling with frustration, Dib grabbed G.I.R. by the head. "FOCUS! You'll take me to Todd, is that right?"

"Yep."

"And will you help me convince him that he must never see Gaz again?"

The robot gave him an innocently confused look. "Never ever again?"

"NEVER, G.I.R.! NEVER!"

It frowned. "I don't think Master would like that very much. She really, really, really, really, really, really likes Squee."

"Yes, but Todd is—uh, he's a very bad man! A very, very **_bad _**man."

"Like **_Johnny_**?"

Dib was a little disturbed by the hateful way G.I.R. said that but wasn't about to let this chance slip away. "Yes, G.I.R. Like Johnny."

"Follow me." The robot rushed out of the room.

Struggling to get his pants on, Dib called out. "WAIT UP! I still need to get dressed!"

---

---

(a/n: And so ends another chapter of _Happy Smiley. _Tune in next time when we'll have a demonically possessed house, bands of roving naked mole-rats, and a drunken Zim. Well, maybe not the naked mole-rats…)


	16. Dealing with the Devil, Miss Gretchen?

You know, ZAGR doesn't have to mean 'Zim & Gaz'…  
By the way, the song featured is _Hoodoo_ by Muse.

**Chapter 16:** **Dealing with the Devil, Miss Gretchen? **

_Three months earlier…_

Zim was pacing again.

Gretchen watched him stagger back and forth for a while in an angry drunken march before he stomped off to the storeroom, then sighed and went back to her knitting. When Zim had brought her to his orbital space station, she was at first awe-struck both by the sheer otherworldliness of it all and that her captor had practically given her free reign to wander the weird winding hallways as she wished. She had spent days going from room to room, gawking at the wondrous technologies Zim had strewn about, studying anything and everything she could get her hands on with a voracious curiosity she never knew she had before. It was hard going at first, since she couldn't read any of the manuals that came with the stuff but she eventually got Zim's computer to teach her enough Irken to figure out how to use the alien devices and, thanks to hours of experimentation and research, she had become frighteningly proficient with most of the equipment on board. Gretchen had even taught herself how to pilot Zim's ship and was pretty sure she could escape…if she wanted too.

Yet she stayed.

She stayed there, waiting for Dib to arrive. Because that's what you're supposed to do if you're ever kidnapped by Evil Aliens: you're supposed to wait for the Hero to come and rescue you. Then again, why should Dib save her? After all, Gretchen knew she wasn't the standard for a "damsel in distress". She wasn't all that smart and definitely wasn't pretty. She was just dumb old Gretchen, the girl who could pick up Brazilian radio stations with her retainer. Why she expect Dib to come to her rescue when he never even noticed her before?

But Zim noticed.

Maybe that's why she stayed. And maybe that's why she'd tried to save him from whatever revenge Dib had planned… even knowing what she did. Her conversations with Zim's computer and the Minimoose had revealed that not only had Zim been one who destroyed Mary-Anne and unleashed a plague of zombies, but also that he'd almost killed Dib. Even if she had known the whole truth then, Gretchen realized couldn't have stood by and let Zim suffer no matter how justified Dib was. After that moment at the prom when Gretchen realized Zim was the only person in the entire Universe who could understand the way she felt about Dib, her entire outlook on life had changed…

…which is why she followed Zim when the alien chased after him. She had seen and _heard_ everything that passed between the human and the alien that night. Despite the fact that Dib admitted to killing her best friend in jealous rage, Gretchen had cried when he poured his heart out to Zim. And, as shocking as it was to discover just how far the depths of their hatred for each other had festered, Gretchen was startled to not only find herself becoming even more attracted to Dib, but to Zim as well.

"Don't get involved," the computer warned when she told it about her strange new feelings toward the alien. "You'll end up getting yourself killed like Keef and that robot girl. Just run back home now, Gretchen. You're too nice to die that way."

But she stayed.

She stayed because she had to know why Zim chose _her_. And every day, Gretchen's infatuation with the alien grew and grew and grew… If something didn't happen soon, Gretchen feared she was going to loose it.

A loud crash from the storeroom sent Gretchen flying out her seat to make sure Zim was alright. She found him laying facedown on the floor surround by heaps of empty bottles.

"Oh god," she gasped, running to his side. "Zim? Zim?! Are you alright?"

Flailing, the alien jerked upright and leveled a laser at her. "Nargh! Oh, it's only _you_…" He put the laser away and glared. "Well, what the hell do you want?"

"Nothing. I…I was just worried about you."

"Worried? About _me_?" slurred Zim in a slightly confused tone.

"Yeah, well your were passed out on the floor. I thought you might've been hurt…"

"Pathetic girl!" snapped Zim. "I'm your captor, remember? I'm holding you hostage and I'll probably kill you anyway. So why do you care what happens to me?"

"I'm sorry," Gretchen mumbled, feeling helpless. She stood there quietly for a moment, watching Zim dig through the bottles for one that was full before saying, "I guess it must be pretty awful for you. I mean, you're here all by yourself, millions and millions of miles away from all your friends. You must be horribly lonely."

"BLAGH! I'm not LONELY! I am an INVADER! I don't **_NEED_** friendship."

"But surely you have a family back on Irk or wherever you come from. Don't you're parents at least miss you?"

Zim stared blankly at her, then went back to searching. "I don't have parents. Irkens are all born from the Great Smeeting Chambers, thousands of miles below the surface of Irk. We don't have, need, or _want, _this 'family' thing you humans are so fucking obsessed with."

"That's really sad, Zim," sighed Gretchen. "It must be hell for you, not having someone who loves you…"

"Love? **_LOVE_**?!" Growling, the alien rounded on her. "You and you're filthy LOVE! Zim needs no LOVE! **I NEVER LOVED DIB!** **I _HATE_ HIM!**"

"But, we weren't talking about Dib…"

"SILENCE, INSOLENT DIRT-GIRL!" raged Zim. "I have HAD IT with being **_IGNORED_**! With being **_FORGOTTEN_**! THEY HAVE **_SCORNED_** ZIM FOR THE LAST TIME! NOW THEY SHALL ALL **_PAY_**!" He stressed the last part with a bottle shattered against the wall.

Zim stormed out of the storeroom and Gretchen ran after him, afraid of what he was planning to do now. She hurried over to him as he began booting up various devices. "WAIT! Zim, please calm down. You…you don't have blow up the Earth! We can talk this out…just you and me. I won't ignore you, Zim. Honest!"

The alien paused his preparations long enough to give her a funny look. "What are you babbling about? I'm not going to blow up the Earth. Well, not _yet_ anyway."

"Then what are you doing?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

"Oh, silly, silly little Gretchen. You're feeble little girly mind just can't contemplate the intricacies of my BRILLANT plans for vengeance."

"Maybe I could, Zim!" huffed the girl, feeling oddly hurt by his callousness. "Besides, all the other evil villains tell their prisoners their evil plans…"

Laughing at her, Zim shook his head. "Very well. I shall tell you my plan only because I amuses me to do so. You see, Gretchen, first I will set up a web of super-powerful laser satellites around the planet, programmed to destroy any spacecraft that attempts to approach within about a 240,000 mile radius of Earth, using your own Moon as the base for the main-phase laser cannon in the array. Then I will invite the Almighty Tallest to come and witness the destruction of your planet, leading them into my cleverly designed deathtrap. Once they are dead, I will return to Irk and begin my reign as EMPEROR OF THE UNIVERSE!"

"And what about Dib?"

Zim grinned evilly. "Oh, you think he's going to stop me?"

"No."

"No? What the hell do you mean 'no'?!" snarled Zim. "Don't you think that you're beloved Dib is going to at least put up some feeble resistance to my schemes for conquest?"

"Actually," Gretchen muttered bleakly. "I'm sure he doesn't really care anymore…"

He stared hard at her. "Do you realize what you're saying, Gretchen?"

"Yes, I do. I'm saying that Dib's become a heartless, nihilistic asshole who's just going to sit by and let the entire universe get wiped out just because he can't admit that he's in love, Zim! Obsessive and insanely violent, but whatever it is between you two must be in some way a twisted kind of love… "

"What? HAVE YOUR BRAINMEATS BEEN DAMAGED?! Dib **_HATES _**me! And I **_HATE _**him!" The alien went back to his work, then after a stretch of awkward silence, turned back to Gretchen. "Of course, _if_ Dib were to fall DESPERATELY in love with anyone, I'd suppose it would be a deliciously cruel twist of fate if the object of his affections became his future overlord and slave-master. It would be…eh…"

"Tragically epic?"

"Thank you!" Grinning, Zim purred happily. "Yes, tragic and epic descried it perfectly. After all, what kind of lovesick lunatic lets the likes of me roam free?"

"I dunno. The same kind of lovesick lunatic who'd vivisect somebody's robot girlfriend and then puts him into a coma?"

Zim glared angrily. "What part of 'I HATE DIB' didn't you understand?"

"If you hate him so much, Zim," countered Gretchen. "Then why are you so obsessed with getting his attention?"

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

She sighed in frustration. "Oh, right. Yep. You _hate_ Dib so much that you let him tie you up and...and do all those **_other_** things to you…and tape it, too."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!" screamed Zim.

"I didn't mean to watch it, honest!" Gretchen gasped, cringing back in fear and shame. "It was an ACCIDENT, Zim. I found the disc and thought it was some kind of alien documentary. I…I wanted to turn it off, but I couldn't stop watching. It's seeing Dib and you like that was…well, _exciting_."

He gaped at the girl, stunned to silence.

"I know! I know it's wrong to feel that way, especially when I know both of you are murderously insane…" sighed Gretchen, looking down red-faced in embarrassment. "But I just can't help it, Zim! For an inhuman monster from beyond the stars, you are pretty good-looking…"

Zim fidgeted uncomfortably. "Okay… I **_really_** wasn't prepared for this kind of thing, Gretchen."

"And you think I **_planned_ **to fall in love with you?!" she snapped. "I mean, you're the VILLIAN! And I'm not supposed to get off on the idea of two guys having kinky sex, either! Nothing about this makes any sense!"

"Oh, as if I really wanted Dib tape that!" Zim snarled back. "It's absolutely humiliating!"

"Like you wouldn't do the same to him if you had the chance!" Gretchen snarled, then immediately clamped a hand over her mouth when she realized what she said.

Zim opened his mouth to bark something nasty back, but then thought about what she said. "Yeah, you're probably right." He sat down facing Gretchen. "So, now what can I do with you? You know too much. But I really can't bring myself to kill you, Gretchen, because you're…well, _you._ But I can't let you go since you know my secret now, and I doubt Dib's coming to your rescue. So, where does this leave us?"

She simply shrugged. "I…don't know."

"You could recruit her," muttered the computer, who'd been eavesdropping.

"Are you joking?!" barked Zim. "Recruit a _human?_ It goes against everything the Irken Empire stands for! Besides, the girl knows nothing about interstellar warfare."

"Actually, I do. A little…" Gretchen replied shyly. "Do you realize that setting up main-phase cannon alone is going to take at least a month's work to get it operational? Plus you've got to work out the arrangements for all the second-phase satellite lasers to make sure they don't blow each other up in the inevitable crossfire situations that occur during 3-D combat. Oh, and I just noticed that if you don't reroute the power-grids on Level 4, you're going to frag the automated deployment system, as well as destroy a good portion of the targeting controls."

The alien looked at her like she was stupid. "HA! I'll have you know, monkey girl, that I've been setting up laser satellites since before you're grandparents were born! Just watch and be AMAZED!"

Arrogantly, Zim switched the ON button and was rewarded with a cacophony of Klaxon sirens.

"ALERT! ALERT! MASSIVE FAILURES IN PRIMARY DEPLOYMENT SYSTEM AND TARGETING CONTROL!" wailed the computer, then it turned off the alerts long enough to sneered, "See? She told you so…"

"I'll deal with you later…" Zim growled, then he turned to Gretchen. "Well, Lil'Miss Smartass, how are we going to fix this mess?"

"We?" she asked, looking at Zim in bewilderment. "You… you want me to help you?"

"Have you the brainworms, girl?! Of course I need you to help! It's going to take both of us working together just to repair the targeting system by tomorrow. Now, hop to it! We've got work to do!"

Gretchen smiled stupidly as she followed Zim to Level 4 to assess the damage. She looked over at Zim. "Um…I don't we can fix this by tomorrow, Zim."

"Oh really?" sneered the alien. "And in your expert opinion, just how long is it going to take?"

"Where to start…" Taking a deep breath, Gretchen began listing off the damages. "First off, we're going to need a new photon processor to replace the one that was burned out in the power surge, then there needs to be extensive repairs to the power grid itself, and you might as well forget about this neutrino focusing arrangement . And that's just covering what it'll take to get the operating system back online. All in all, I'd say it's going to take about…eh, a week at least if we've got the proper parts."

"_A week with the proper parts?_" rasped Zim. "Dammit, woman! I haven't GOT replacement a photon processor, or any of that other crap!"

"Well, can't you contact a supply sergeant and order them?"

Zim snorted a laugh. "Right… I'll just call up the nearest supply outpost and request parts to fix an orbital laser web so I can overthrow the Irken Empire. Yeah, that's going to work out _REALLY_ well…"

"You don't have to be sarcastic, Zim."

"Why not!" he growled, throwing up his hands. "It's not like there's any other way to get to parts!"

"Wait," Gretchen muttered. "Hey, computer! Could you please bring up a list of all the military bases and laboratories on Earth that have the components to build or repair an orbital laser array?"

The alien rolled his eyes. "Oh, like that's going to—"

"DONE!" barked the computer as a screen flipped down with an extensive list.

Gretchen looked mildly at Zim.

"All right! All right!" he barked, realizing he'd been beaten. "I'll start getting the parts. Salvage what you can."

"Yes, sir!" She saluted, then as Zim was leaving added, "Wait! There's just one more little thing..."

He let out a noise somewhere between a hiss and a sigh. "Yes? What is it now?"

"Make me an Irken."

"What?!" Zim stood there, stunned and confused by her request.

"Make me an Irken." Gretchen repeated quietly.

"Why?" gasped the alien after several moments of incoherent grunting.

"It's hard to explain…" she muttered, coming up beside him. "You see, after what happened at the prom, I had an epiphany…"

Zim grimaced in disgust. "Is that one of those _female problems_, because if it is…"

"No, Zim! An epiphany is when you suddenly realize something extremely important about EVERYTHING. It's like the day you find out there's no Easter Bunny! Or that Bloaty the Pizza Hog is really just a morbidly obese man in a suit!"

"Oh right! An EPIPHANY!" chuckled Zim. "I…I knew that!"

She rolled her eyes. "Right…Anyhow, that night I realized that Dib isn't capable of loving another human being. It's not that he can't love; he _can _love, it's just that he'll never feel that way toward a normal _human_. Everyone he's ever had a meaningful relationship with has had some strange quality or unusual background that attracted Dib to them in the first place. Take for example his relationship with Zita. He'd hardly give her the time of day until he found out she was part of this super-secret all-female paramilitary group, L.E.S.B.O. After that, you couldn't get Dib away from her! Oh, and don't get me started on the time he dated these super-hot Japanese schoolgirl twins! I thought it was just Dib living out some stupid male fantasy…until it came out Fuk Mi and Fuk Yu both were genetically uplifted cats!"

For a moment, Zim only stared. "Cat girls? And the Zita-human, too?"

"Yeah," Gretchen grumbled. "And about twenty or so others, guys and girls, over the past five-six years. And those are the ones I can name. You see, Dib's bisexual and, eh—how can I put this _nicely_— a little promiscuous…"

"Promo-whatis?"

The computer snapped angrily, "What's she trying to say is that Dib's had more ass than a public toilet seat."

Zim still looked on with a dim, blank faced look.

"God…"groaned the computer. "Dib's been fucking around, okay? You know, having sex with a lot of people other than you! To be blunt, he's a fucking whore! A filthy slut! A dirty ho! A gigolo! _!El es una punta!_"

Gretchen gasped in outrage. "I wouldn't call him anything like that!"

"Well, do you have a better way to put it?"

"No," she admitted quietly. "But you aren't seeing the whole picture. The hypersexuality could be a symptom of manic-depression, which may also explain other parts of Dib's behavior, including the way his mood oscillates between extremes of frenetic action and intense apathy. Of course, the pills he keeps popping seem only to aggravate his condition…"

This sparked a long debate between Gretchen and the computer over whether mental instability should be accepted as a way to justify deviant and often times criminal behavior. But Zim, however, was paying no attention to them.

_((come into my life…))  
((regress into a dream…))_

There were _others_? There were so many _others_ before him?

Zim felt a strange pain in his chest.

This didn't make sense! Why did he care? It wasn't like what Dib had done to him was anything more than another loss for Zim in their ongoing power-struggle. So what if Dib was fucking other people? Zim knew that at least that awful Maryanne had been before him. And it wasn't like Dib had been his _first _either…

And yet it _hurt_. It hurt because Zim'd never expected Dib to be capable of such outrageously flagrant _infidelities_. The very idea that Dib could have been so unfaithful to him made the pain all the worse. It burned and tore into Zim's pride like a horrific parasite of betrayal. And it _hurt _like hell.

_((we will hide…))  
((and build a new reality…))_

Zim couldn't stand for it. He _wouldn't _stand for it.

Out of everything that Dib had ever done to him, this was unforgivable. It wasn't enough that Dib _ignored _him, the mighty and glorious ZIM! The human had to rub it in his face by doing…doing _things _with hordes of those dirty, lesser creatures. Those very same piggish, stupid monsters that had ridiculed and abused Dib for his genius. True, the human was hopelessly insane, but Zim could still appreciate the filthy little monkey's flawed brilliance. And, much to his amazement and utter surprise, he'd found another who might just be able to understand the way Dib made him feel.

Out of the blue, a horrible and amazingly evil idea came to Zim as he watched Gretchen argue with his computer.

"Make me Irken…" he mused, a smile creeping slowly across his face.

_((draw another picture…))  
((of the life you could've had…))_

"Gretchen?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at Zim's voice, and then turned to the alien. "Yes, Zim?"

The way he was smiling disturbed her far worse than the quiet spookiness of his voice as he spoke.

"I've been thinking," Zim began. "About what you asked me to do. About making you an Irken. And I've made a decision."

Hope blazed inside her chest, making Gretchen feel lightheaded as she eagerly waited for his answer. Here it was the chance she'd been wishing for ever since she'd first seen Dib in pre-school. The chance to finally be something worth Dib's notice, someone special… To shed this ugly, plain faced girl she'd always been and become someone _magnificent_!

_((follow your instinct…))  
((and choose the other path…))_

"I've realized that I cannot do it. I can't make you like me…"

Gretchen felt her world shatter. Tears started to run down her face as she sank to the floor in despair. With just those words, Zim had done something worse than kill her. He'd taken away everything she'd ever wanted in life. The way he was still smiling down on her made Gretchen want to kill him, to tear every last part of him to ribbons and beat him until nothing was left but bitter dust.

_((you should never be afraid…))  
((you're protected from trouble and pain…))_

Zim only laughed softly, amused by her anger.

The alien bent down on one knee and gently cupped her face in his hand, wiping away the tears with that horrible smile on his face. His tenderness was unbearable. But it was what Zim had to say next almost made her faint.

"I'll do even _BETTER_ than that!" rasped Zim as he helped Gretchen to her feet. "What would you say if I told you I could not only make you an alien but also the most beautiful woman in the UNIVERSE?"

Her eyes went wide in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Very." Before she could reply, the smile vanished and Zim's voice became menacing in its caution. "But there is a _price _to be paid. Nothing is _free_, girl, and you must be ready to risk all. Think it over, Gretchen. Think it over _carefully_. Once we begin, there can be no turning back. I'll never be able to reverse the procedure. You'll never be the same girl again, Gretchen. You'll never be fully _human_ again! And you may not like what you become…" He squeezed her trembling hands. "But I promise you, I'll make you everything you've ask and _more_! So are you willing to give up everything for what I have to offer?"

_((why…))  
((why… is this a crisis in your eyes…))  
((again?))_

Gretchen turned away slightly, no sure what she should do. Here it was, the chance she'd dreamt of. Zim was offering her everything she'd ever wanted and more! All it would cost her is her very humanity…

"Is Dib really worth it?" Zim hissed, more to himself than to her. He was suddenly having second thoughts...

"Yes!" Gretchen gasped in a sharp, breathless voice. "Yes, he's worth _anything_!"

_((come to be…))  
((how did it come to be?))_

For a moment, Zim could only gape in horror at the fiery madness in her eyes. Then, seized by a lust for revenge, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

They came to a chamber Gretchen hadn't visited before, a room filled with nightmare machinery. Zim flung her toward the tubular tank dominating the center of the room. She turned to him, praying that he would take her away from this ghastly place.

"Go ahead!" the alien snarled with rage. "Step inside! Isn't this all that you wanted?!"

When she didn't move, Zim dragged her off the floor and threw her into the tank.

_((no love to set us free…))_

Crying wildly in panic, Gretchen clawed and slammed her fists against the clear pink material.

"PLEASE, ZIM! I'VE CHANGED MY MIND! PLEASE! DON'T DO THIS!"

_((watch as our souls fade away…))_

Zim watched, face cold and impassive as he activated the nanites.

_((and our bodies crumbling…))_

Her cries turned to screams of unimaginable pain as the mist of microscope bio-machines engulfed her. The mist wasn't enough to hide the sight of first her clothes then the flesh underneath dissolving as the nanites began the grueling process of rearranged Gretchen's body on a cellular level.

"Don't be afraid…" Zim whispered to the hideously writhing _thing_. Slowly, the screaming died down into a dull moan.

The thing in the mist had stopped convulsing. It began to reform, with skin turning a curiously pale shade of green that was a sharp contrast to the purple hair and a body which was rapidly becoming waspishly thin. Soon, the transformation was complete and what had once been Gretchen slumped to the bottom of the tank with lifelessly staring eyes.

_((I will take the blow for you.))_

Punching in a quick command, Zim turned in time to watch a set of grommet arms stab into her back with a sickening crunch. As they pulled away, another arm was lowered from the ceiling. In one swift blow, it attached the Pak Zim had 'commandeered' from Tak's base. Then came to jolt of electricity to restart her heart and breathing.

The tank hissed open as Gretchen staggered to her feet, naked and shaking.

_((I have recurring nightmares…))_

Zim stood still as she stumbled toward him, still in a daze from the ordeal. He saw her mouth open like she was about to speak, her newly formed antennae twitching anxiously. She made a noise that was half-way between a sob and a whimper, then collapsed into the alien's arms.

_((that I was loved for who I am…))_

He held her for a long time, completely at a loss as to what he should do next. The knowledge he'd done something absolutely monstrous hit Zim with the force a small nuclear explosion. Despite all the other ghastly things he had done, Zim knew this was the absolute worst act he'd ever committed in his entire life. Gretchen may have asked him to do it, but she didn't understand what she was asking from him. And he had done it anyway, knowing just how hideous it was…

For once in his life, Zim felt utterly disgusted with himself.

_((and missed the opportunity…))  
((to be a better man…))_

"Gretchen…" Zim buried his face in her hair, unable to hold back his own sobs. His voice was hoarse. "Gretchen, I'm sorry…"

_---_


	17. The Fellowhip of the Dweeb

Instead of an introduction, I shall bestow upon you this Ring of Power. But beware! For it has a great and evil power. On it, there is an inscription in a dark ancient tongue, unknown to the race of Man and unspoken by the Eldar. It translates as follows: "One Dib to rule them all, One Dib to find them, One Dib to tempt them all, and in this Madness bind them!" And, lo, J.R.R. Tolkien does roll in his grave...

**Chapter 17:** **The Fellowship of the Dweeb**

From the vantage of a cliff, Dib stared at the valley below. "Are you _sure_ this is where Todd lives?"

G.I.R. nodded vigorously. "YES! Squee lives here now 'cause he's special!"

"Oh yeah," sneered Dib as he watched an armed patrol pass behind the first row of electrified fence. "He sure is _special_…"

God, how long had it been? Maybe a year or so…It felt like centuries since the last time he'd seen this place. And now, here he was, looking down at the headquarters of the top-secret government organization Dib himself had help found: M.I.N.D.P.H.U.C.K. Okay, so maybe the acronym for the Military Institute for the Neutralization of Paranormal Horrors, Unnatural Catastrophes, and Kryptoids was a bit awkward thanks to a certain high-ranking politician's insistence on spelling cryptoid with a 'k' to make it look "cool" on the letter head. But that wasn't half as bad as having to explain to Major Dirk Rankle why he hadn't returned his phone calls… In fact, Dib was rather unsure what was worse about this turn of events: finding out his sister was dating an inhuman monster or facing a room full of his exes.

Still, vengeful exes or not, getting rid of the Todd factor was a matter of saving not only the Earth—again...—but also the one chance Dib had at saving the nicest, sweetest person he'd ever known. With Gretchen on his mind, Dib boldly strode toward the front gates with all the determination and seriousness of an angsty superhero. And G.I.R. cheerfully skipped along behind him, oblivious as usual.

At the front gates was a small but heavily fortified guard post manned by a pair of soldiers. One of them was a heavy-set middle aged man idly reading a tabloid while the younger guard dutifully watched for trouble. They barely reached the gates before the younger guard eagerly jumped out and leveled a machine gun at Dib.

"HALT! This is a highly secured area!" began the guard in a commanding, well rehearsed tone. "Civilians are not allowed past this point with full authorization! If you don't leave immediately, we are authorized to use force up to and including lethal force! Do you understand this warning?" He waited a moment for Dib to reply, but when the other only glare at him, then barked, "¡Alto¡Esto es un área altamente asegurada¡No se permite a los civiles más allá de este punto con la autorización completa¡Si usted no se va inmediatamente, nos autorizan a utilizar la fuerza hasta e incluir la fuerza mortal! Usted entiende esta advertencia?"

"Yes, I understand," Dib sneered, more annoyed than angry. "Now could you please let me in?"

"But-uh…You're not authorized," squeaked the guard.

Groaning, Dib took his glass off to rub his eyes. "And just how can you be sure? I mean, you haven't even asked to see my identification yet!"

"OH! Sorry!" Clearing his throat, the guard shifted back to the Official Random Guard Voice. "Authorization is required to pass beyond this point. May I see your…uh, your… Crap!" Turning to the other guard, he asked hopelessly, "Hey, sarge! Do we just need to see the ID card or am I gonna need to retina/DNA scan him too?"

With a sigh, Sgt. Wedge sat aside his tabloid. "For the hundredth time, kid, all you need to do is let'em—HOLY SHIT! BIGGS, YOU DUMBASS! DON'T YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS? PUT THAT FUCKING GUN AWAY!?!" he screamed as he jumped to his feet immediately, and saluted Dib while Biggs the new guy stood dumbfounded and mouth gapping. "Sorry about that, Dr. Mabuse, sir! Biggs' new around here. Good to see you back, sir!"

"Nice to see you too, Wedge." Dib muttered with a small grimace. "You do know you can just call me Dib, right? There's no need to be formal or anything…"

"Sorry, sir, but you know we're not supposed to be too 'chummy' with the CO's," groused the sergeant.

"I take it Major Asshole is here?"

Wedge nodded. "Yeah, and what's worse, there's also a shit load of bigwigs on hand for the Meeting."

"Meeting?" Dib cocked an eyebrow. "What meeting?"

"You know, the _Special Emergency Meeting_. That why you came back, right, sir?" Then it dawned on him that Dib still had no idea what he was talking about. "Good grief, sir! I thought _you_ knew!"

"Know what?"

"We're under attack, sir! Attack by beings from OUTER SPACE!" replied the sarge with suitable amounts of awe and dread.

Dib rolled his eyes. "Oh! Is that all? For a second there I thought it was something serious…"

Now he joined Biggs in gapping in shock at Dib.

Taking a deep breath, Dib waited until the sarge regained his composure before grumbling, "It's been nice seeing you again, but could you please open the gates? I'm in kind of a hurry here and I'd like to get done before—"

"DIB!"

Flinching at that sound, Dib looked rather scared to see a jeep come screeching to a halt in front of gate and a beautiful blue-haired girl leapt out. She raced toward him as physics bent into the sparkly slo-mo of Shojo-style romance to embrace the now pleasantly surprised young paranormalist. His relief was short-lived, however, when the girl slammed her kneecap into his groin.

"I don't think I deserved that…" whimpered Dib as he curled up into his private world of hurt. "And what is it with everyone and kicking me in the balls lately?"

"Because those are the only things I _know_ you care about," Zita snapped back. "Now get up. We've got briefing to get to."

"Again, what the hell are you all talking about?" Dib growled, straightening his coat as he climbed into the passenger seat. G.I.R. hopped dutifully into his lap.

"You really are out of the loop, aren't you?" she muttered, driving away from the first guard point at a break-neck pace. "Don't worry. Dirk'll explain during the briefing."

Dib arched an eyebrow. "Dirk? Since when have you and the **_Major_** been on a first name basis?"

"Since you ditched both of us on that godforsaken island in Sumatra with those fucking rat-monkeys!"

"You're _still _mad about that?"

"Yes. Yes I am," hissed Zita.

She didn't say anything else for the rest of the trip, occasionally giving Dib the evil eye. He was relieved when they reached the main building and Zita ushered him and G.I.R. inside. As they walked down the corridor in silence, Dib couldn't help but feel an unpleasant mixture of emotions, ranging from shame over his past behavior, some jealousy about finding out Zita was with Dirk now, and the overwhelming despair at the realization that things were only going to get worse, especially if his suspicions about _who_ was behind the 'Alien Invasion' were correct…

Suddenly, G.I.R. squealed and pointed joyfully at something that made Dib smile.

"Fuck!" For the fifth time, Sgt. Casil tried shake loose the bag of beef-flavored jerky from the vending machine by the conference room. And again the bag hung temptingly out of his reach.

Dib gave the machine a little psychic tweak, causing the whole row of jerky to spill out. When the surprised young man turn, Dib was shaking his head and grinning. "Some things never change…"

"Dib!" Laughing happily, Casil bear-hugged him while the robot dove headlong into the jerky.

Hugging back, Dib found himself laughing a bit too. "Nice to know somebody around here missed me."

"Let me guess," Casil started, breaking away to grab some jerky before G.I.R. ate it all. "Dirk dragged you into this mess too."

"Nope! Just have really bad timing. So, how have you been?"

"Pretty good," replied the sergeant. "In fact, I was right in the middle of a date when Major Rankle called me in."

"That sucks. So I guess you're still seeing that artist girl?"

"We broke up."

"Oh! Sorry."

Casil shrugged. "Don't be. Believe me it was best thing for both of us considering my _condition_..."

"Well that's good." Dib said brightly, and then his tone shifted nastily. "I bet Pepito was thrilled about that…"

"Actually, I'm not sleeping with him anymore either."

"Oh god… Please don't tell me you and _that guy_…" murmured Dib, shuddering at the memory of Casil's psychotic neighbor.

"No," hissed Casil grimly. "And the less we say about Johnny, the better."

"Okay…" Dib hurried to get Casil's mind off that subject before anything bad happened. "Well, why don't you tell me about your new, uh…?"

"Girlfriend. And she's the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me." Casil sighed, smiling dreamily. "She's absolutely amazing, Dib! She's brilliant, funny, and absolutely gorgeous… God, if you could only met—"

He stopped mid-sentence and looked over at G.I.R., who had succeeded in climbing into the vending machine and was gorging itself on snacks. The robot smiled and waved.

Casil gave Dib the weirdest look. "Where did he come from?"

"G.I.R.? Oh, he—uh, _it_ is just a little alien robot… Don't worry, though. It's harmless. And stupid." When he noticed that his friend was still staring at him oddly, Dib let out an annoyed little sigh. "It's not what you think. You see, G.I.R.'s not mine. It belongs to Gaz. There's a funny story behind how she got him. See, G.I.R. used to belong to Zim—you know, that crazy bastard I was keeping tabs on—, but I sort fried its brains and then Gaz rebuilt it so now G.I.R. thinks she's its master…"

"I know."

Dib raised an eyebrow. "So she _has_ been here? And you've met her?"

"Yeah," Casil answered in a voice that was eerie and malevolent. "I'm her boyfriend."

For a moment, Dib only stared in disbelief. When the shock wore off, he managed to mutter, "You? You're the mysterious Todd?"

"Dib, we've known each for almost two years. How many other Todds do you know?"

"I was really, really, _REALLY_ hoping it'd just be a weird coincidence…" Dib groaned hopelessly. Then he suddenly went grim. "Okay, so maybe I _suspected_ Gaz's mystery boy might turn out to be you, but given everything I know about you and your abnormally strong instinct for self-preservation, I never actually believed you'd be stupid enough to get involved with Gaz. She makes Johnny look like a cuddly baby bunny!"

"And how would you know?" Todd hissed, his tone shifting dangerously.

Dib sighed. "Look, we don't really have the time for me to explain why dating Gaz is only for the suicidal. Let me just say that I've known her much longer than you have and I've had first hand experience with the horrific things she's capable of inflicting upon a person."

Todd seemed ready to kill Dib but Zita suddenly reappeared.

"If you boys are done, we have a world to save…" With that, she shoved them both into the War Room.

Painfully aware that Casil was glaring death at him, Dib cautiously took a seat between Zita and some top-ranking military type while the sergeant sat across from them.

"Glad you could finally join us, _Doctor_," hissed Major Rankle when he caught sight of Dib. "I trust you've been brought up to speed on the current situation."

"Actually, no. I haven't a fucking clue what all this is about, but I'm going to take a wild guess that Zim has something to do with it." He chuckled, leaning back and propping his feet on the table. "In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the little fucker told you guys that he was getting ready to conquer the Earth, enslave humanity, and that the Armada will be here any minute now. Am I right?"

For a moment, all Rankle and the rest of military brass gaped in shock at how unconcerned Dib was acting. Only Casil seemed to share the paranormal superstar's relaxed attitude.

"Yeah," Casil answered in a eerily detached tone. "Only you left out the fact that the Armada now just passing the planet—" A couple of scientists gave him dirty looks. Casil's lip curled in disgust, "Excuse me, the '_trans-Neptunian object_' Pluto, and will be within firing distance of Earth in approximately five days. Oh, and about the whole 'conquest' thing? See, there won't be much more than cosmic dust left to conquer since Zim was apparently setting up a massive laser array to obliterate Earth from orbit."

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"Pretty much."

"And you believed his bullshit?" Dib barked, cackling madly. "Dear god… You **_morons_**! Don't any of you get it? Zim's _playing_ with you! There's no Armada! It's just a trick! It's always been a fucking _GAME _to him! He's trying to bluff the world governments into thinking there's an alien invasion under way and set off a global panic which he'll try to manipulate to fulfill his own twisted little schemes for revenge…"

"Against _you_." Casil finished dryly. "And against the co-regents of his homeworld. See, Zim's plan included the assassination of the Almighty Tallests so he could take over the Irken Empire."

"And I suppose Zim told you this, right?"

"Yes. He **_did_**." There was a nasty smile on Casil's face. "If you don't believe me, Dib, then why not ask him yourself? He's in a holding cell down in the Red Zone. You better hurry, though. Tomorrow, he'll be transported to the Hanger 18 faculties at Wright-Paterson Airbase for vivisection and study."

Dib stared blankly at Casil for several moments. Then his expression shifted from casual sarcasm to something more psychotic. "Really? And do you mind if I ask just **_who_** put him there?"

Casil easily matched Dib with his own twisted little smile. "I did."

"I see." There was a deceptive calmness in Dib's tone as he settled back in his chair…and then lunged for Casil with surprising speed and fury, sending them both sprawling to the floor.

"Gentleman, you can't fight in _here_!" Rankle barked. "This is the War Room!"

They kicked, clawed, and slugged at each other brutally until a small squad of heavily armored MPs managed to pry the boys apart.

"You sick bastard!" Casil screamed, breaking free from the men restraining him to thrust an accusing finger at Dib. "YOU'RE FUCKING THE ENEMY!"

"AND YOU'RE FUCKING MY LITTLE SISTER!" Dib roared back, flinging aside the MPs easily.

Casil's righteous anger deflated in surprise. "Gaz is your _sister_?"

"Yes, she's my sister! My little baby sister! Didn't you fucking know that?!"

"Actually, no." Casil muttered, looking sheepish. "She never really talked much about her family, just something about having a crazy idiot of a brother…"

"Yeah," grumbled Dib. "That sounds like something she'd say."

There was a long pause.

Finally, Casil laughed nervously. "Boy, this is awkward…"

"Forget about it." Dib snapped. "Just take me to see Zim."

Suddenly, Rankle cut in. "I cannot let you do that, Dib. No matter justified you are to take revenge for the heinous and degrading things the alien son of a bitch did to you while you were under it's control, I'm bound by both my duty to this great country and military regulations to deliver it **_alive_** to Wright-Patterson for further study."

Before Dib could correct the major about certain facts, Casil barked, "That's exactly the reason why Dib _must_ be allowed to see Zim! So he can confront the alien personally for the monstrous crimes it committed and be able to at least have closure."

"You've made a very convincing point, sergeant…" murmured Rankle, still eyeing Dib suspiciously.

Dib met his gaze with a steely glare. "Yes. That's _exactly_ what I want from Zim. I want **_closure_**."

"Very well," growled Rankle in a voice that betrayed his suspicions about Dib. "I'll grant you clearance under one condition: Sergeant Casil and Zita must remain with you at all times. Do you understand?"

"That's fine with me," Dib replied pleasantly. He turned and headed toward the door.

"Wait!" gasped the Presidential Aide. "What about the Armada?! And the **_Invasion_**?!"

"It can wait." On that, Dib stormed out of the War Room with Zita and the sergeant running to catch up. Once they were in the elevator and out of earshot of the bigwigs, Zita rounded on him.

"What the hell was that all about?! I mean, sure, Todd's seeing your sister but this really isn't the time—"

"It's not about _Gaz_," Dib replied, coldly glaring at Casil. "It's **_Zim_**."

Zita growled in frustration. "Oh, for god's sake! Look, I understand you're pissed and you have every right to be after what he did to you…"

"And just what did **_Zim_** do to me? Besides brutally murder Mary-Anne, put me in a coma, and kidnap Gretchen?"

She gave Dib the oddest stare. "He raped you."

Suddenly, he began to laugh. "Oh really? So Zim **_raped_** me?! And just why do you believe that?"

"Because that's what I _told_ them," answered Casil, moving in closer. "I had a…hunch and tracked you to the abandoned sanitarium, but I was too late. By the time I got there, you—eh, _Zim_ had escaped. I couldn't find you, but there was evidence to suggest a humanoid had been bound, tortured, and sexually assaulted. You know…blood and _seminal _fluid. When the lab techs checked the samples, a good amount of these fluids came up as unknown and definitely not terrestrial in origin, but the rest matched your DNA perfectly so they assumed…"

"That Zim attacked me?" Dib laughed filling the elevator with a cold ringing. "That's funny, Casil. I could've sworn it was **_Zim_** strapped down to the table…"

"What are you saying, Dib?" snapped Zita, confused and angry.

"Zita, you saw what I did to Zim," came the slightly cracked giggle. "You were at the Prom. You were there when I beat the hell out of him… You were even helping Gretchen clean the blood off his ugly green face! And yet you believed it was **_Zim_** who was violating **_me_**?"

She kept shaking her head with an expression of revolted disbelief. "You've done some pretty sick things, but… God, Dib! Even you aren't capable of **_that_**."

"You'd be surprised at what I'm capable of."

Zita stared at him, horrified, and then turned to Casil. "That can't be true! Todd, you said…you said…"

But the sergeant only looked straight ahead as the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors hissed open. "We're here."

They walked out onto a metal deck overlooking the vast Containment Vault. There were thousands upon thousands of specimen lining the chamber, but there was one lone cylinder set out in the middle of the vault. It had a soft reddish glow, turning the prisoner's skin a garish pink.

Dib started down the stairs, then noticed Casil and Zita were still standing by the elevator.

"Well?" he asked. "Aren't you supposed to stay with me?"

Casil shrugged, pulling a set of headphones out his pocket. "We're good. You go ahead."

He looked toward Zita, but she turned away in disgust. With a snort, Dib descended and went up to the cylinder. He stared at Zim floating inside, naked and with wires struck all over him. At first, it looked as if the alien was sleeping peacefully but suddenly his one good eye popped open and an unpleasant smile slithered across Zim's face.

"Hello, **_Dib_**," he hissed. "I'm so glad you could finally make it. Sorry you missed the fun."

Dib looked back at him, his face blank and tone devoid of emotion. "Where is she, Zim?"

"I expected better of you," the alien continued. "You just couldn't be bothered to finish me yourself, could you Dib?"

"Where is she, Zim?"

"You disappoint me, Dib." Zim chuckled and rambled on obliviously. "Sending your smelly little minion after me? A pathetic crazy boy?! Frankly, I'm insulted."

"Where is she, Zim?" repeated Dib, his voice now hinting at a mounting rage. "Where is Gretchen?"

The smile vanished from the alien's face as his expression shifted from arrogance to fury as he screamed, "Gretchen?! Is _that_ all you care about?! The **_GIRL_**?!"

"Just tell me where she is, Zim."

Zim's face twisted hideously, rage blazing in his one glowing green eye. Then he abruptly started to giggle madly, grinning as if in on a nasty little joke.

"What's so funny, Zim?"

"Haven't they told you?" asked Zim, shaking with laughter.

"Told me _what_, Zim?" Now Dib was panicked. "What have you done to her, Zim?! What did you do to Gretchen?!"

Still cackling, the alien gave his nemesis a deranged smile. "**_Fuck you, Dib."_**

Blinded by rage, Dib rushed at the cylinder only to be stop short by an abrupt dizzy spell. He staggered backwards into the waiting arms of Casil, who dutifully carried him back to the elevator where Zita was waiting. The last thing Dib heard before he blacked out again was Zim's laughter ringing in his ears.

---

(Teaser for the next chapter: Dib's 'mysterious' blackouts will finally be explained, as well as what happened to Gretchen. And Todd? Well, that's to be explained in future chapters of _Here's Hoping_…, a JtHM fic that parallels the events of this trilogy.)


	18. FEUER FREI!

Fire at will...

**Chapter 18**: Feuer frei!

Once again, Dib found himself clawing back into consciousness, waking to find himself in a rather spartan infirmary. He sat up slowly, grimacing from the migraine as he looked over to see Casil standing over the bed like some menacing specter of DOOM.

"Good evening," the sergeant hummed in the spookiest voice Dib had ever heard. Then he glanced at his watch. "Eh, make that 'morning'."

"How long have I been out?"

"About five, six hours." Casil sat at the end of the bed. "You know, this reminds me of how we met…"

"Yeah," Dib growled groggily as he lay back down. "Only then you were the one in the hospital gown…" He closed his eyes, trying to will away the terrible pain bashing around his skull. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were taking Zim to Wright-Paterson."

"The transport team leaves at 05:00, so I've got three hours or so. That's plenty of time to get this over with. See, Dib, there's something really, really important I needed to talk to you about before we left."

"And what made you think I'd be awake? Last time, I was out for at least a month… I think."

"Actually, it was more like 90 days, which is approximately how long the guys in R&D estimated it would take for a subject to recover from a massive overdose. According to them, the normal duration is only something like four or five hours for somebody of your body weight."

Jerking forward, Dib grabbed Casil by the throat. "Duration?! OVERDOSE?! YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!"

Instead of being worried, the sergeant serenely pried Dib's claws off and sighed. "Just calm down, Dib. The gland's stress triggered and I don't want you blacking out on me before I'm finished with what I have to say."

"Gland?" Dib blinked in confusion then he fixed the other boy with a suspicious glare. "What gland?"

"The one Simmons implanted in you while you were in the coma," explained Casil. "When they searched St. Dimas after you and Zim…eh, had you little lover's spat, the investigative team found video footage of the whole incident. Apparently, Zim wanted to record every agonizing second of your suffering."

"But weren't the cameras—"

"Fried when you went berserk? Well, yes and no. Apparently, you only overloaded the main surveillance system. Seems Zim had a back-up. He must've wanted to make sure he had the whole thing preserved for posterity. If I were a moron, I'd almost be impressed by sheer depths of the **_hatred_** he has for you. Actually, I feel pretty sorry for the rotten little shit…" Casil laughed dryly then cleared his throat.  
"Anyway, a team was sent in to gather evidence, but Simmons managed to get the footage first before I could…eh, the _Institute_ had a chance to evaluate it, and after he saw what you were capable of, he got a group of the other scientist together and they implanted a 'wonder-gland' into you. Basically, the gland's designed to trigger anytime you display '_dangerously unstable_' psychic activity or go over a set adrenal level and it release a drug—actually, it's a highly experimental neurotoxin—which pretty much shuts down all higher brain functions and puts the body in stasis."

"In other words, the gland secretes a poison which puts me in a vegetative state whenever I use telekinesis," Dib sneered. "And my _darling father_—"

"Didn't have a damn thing to do with it. Seriously, Dib, the professor maybe an absentminded, aloof, and emotionally distant asshole, but I don't think he would **_ever_** allow Simmons to do what he did. In fact, Membrane would probably be **_thrilled_** to find out you had those kinds of powers."

Dib's face twisted into a foul smile and there was a nasty little laugh. "Of course he'd be happy! It'd be something new for dear old dad to test and experiment with!"

Casil gave him the coldest look. "Dib, I know you won't believe me when I tell you this, but for all his neglect, his criticisms about your chosen profession, and extremely questionable ethics, your father honestly _loves you_." Casil paused, and then added. "Not in a creepy incestuous way, though… Look, I know it doesn't seem like it, but Professor Membrane genuinely cares about your well-being and he's proud of what you've done with your life."

"If he's feels that way," growled the paranormalist. "Then why hasn't he ever told me? Why not show little more affection?"

"Blame your overbearing dickhead of a grandfather for that. Seems he thought of 'affection' as being unscientific and therefore unnecessary for a scientist. That, and unlike Membrane, you were raised as a normal boy…"

"And what does my dad's upbringing got to do with me?" Dib muttered, slightly confused now. "And what do you mean 'normal'?! You sure as hell can't call my family normal!" He paused and mulled over what Todd said for a second. "Actually, I **_can_** see my grandfather using dad as a guinea pig. Hell!" he added sarcastically. "The old geezer probably had this whole fucking breeding program and lab set up just to produce the perfect **_SCIENTIST_**!"

"Yep. He did." Casil replied with a flat, earnest tone. There was a brief silence as Dib stared dumbly at him. Todd took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Dib, how much do you know about your family?"

"Well, I know all of them were scientists…"

"Is that all? I mean, you don't know any details about, say, you great grandmother or any other women in you family tree?" There was a strange urgency in the sergeant's voice.

"Not really. I never really knew much about my relatives. In fact, I can't even remember meeting my paternal grandmother… Guess she died before I was born like Grandfather Mabuse. Then again, I don't even remember having _any _female relatives other than Gaz and mom."

"And you never noticed anything else strange about your family…" Casil muttered absently as if he was listening to some unseen interloper. Then he whispered suddenly, "See? He doesn't know…" He paused, attention focused on his unseen guest. "No, I am not going to tell him **_that. _**He's better off not knowing…"

"Tell me what? Is it about Gretchen?" Dib jerked forward, hope blazing in his eyes.

"No. Well, actually, yes. She is kind of part of all this, but…would you shut up?" Casil snapped, waving his hand as if to shoo off an invisible pest. "Gretchen will become…oh just forget about her for the moment, okay? There's something really, really important I've got to tell you."

Now Dib was glaring death at the boy. "Todd, if you got my little sister pregnant, I'll—"

"WHAT?! No! Look, it's really not important, okay?" barked Casil. "I mean, so what if your entire family are clones?!"

For the longest time, Dib could only sit there staring at the sergeant in shock. Then he mumbled, "Clones? My whole family is cloned?"

"Yeah," He nervously laughed. "Ten generations, all clones. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But that's not really all that important right now. See, for the past couple of years I've been having recurring premonitions about this planet full of crystal cities and these weird, glowy butterfly people. They've got this green skinned alien girl captured, but then these other green aliens show up to rescue her and invade the planet. So the butterflies—"

"I'm a clone of my father…," murmured the paranormalist, ignoring Casil as he stared straight ahead. Then he turned to Casil, eyes aflame with a frenzied determination. "What time is it?"

"Huh?"

"Time!" shouted Dib. "What time is it?!"

"It's…uh, 2:34…"

"Still got time…" Dib muttered as he staggered out of bed and began digging his clothes out of the footlocker.

"To do what?" barked Casil, squeaking with panic.

Yanking on his trench coat, Dib smiled sweetly. "Oh, I'm going over to the lab to have a little talk with my dad. Shouldn't take long." He went over to Casil and gave the stunned boy a friendly little hug. "Don't worry, Todd. I'll be back before you leave for Wright-Patterson with Zim."

Casil jerked away from him. "Dammit, Dib! What the hell are you up to?"

"Fixing a little problem," he hissed. "Simmons put the gland in you too, didn't he? And this," Dib waved the vial of pills he'd taken from Casil's pocket when they hugged. "This must be the antidote. You had it the whole fucking time, and you never told me. Why?"

"Because there isn't one! Now, if you'll just let me explain…" growled Todd, his eyes never leaving the vial. "And those aren't what you think they are! So give them back. Give the capsules back _now_!"

"Capsules?" Idly, Dib took a closer look at the vial in his hand and reading the label. "Number 20-strength Capsules, Formula 42. Well, that's interesting…"

"God damn it, Dib!" snapped the sergeant. He grabbed for the vial frantically. "Give them back. You don't understand—"

"These must be some kind of psionic enhancer. Knowing your little _problem_, I'm willing to bet that these increase the user's powers exponentially, perhaps even enough to overcome the effects of the gland…" He eyed the pills, glasses glinting evilly.

"I know what you're thinking, but don't do it. Just let _him_ go, Dib." Todd was begging now, his expression like the terrified little boy he was when they first met. "Please Dib. I've _seen_ what could…no, what **_will_** happen if you don't stop."

Dib smiled, apparently moved by his friend's concern. For a moment, it looked as if he would give in, but then he quickly gulped down a couple of capsules and, in a flash of electricity, hit Casil with enough voltage to knock the boy unconscious.

"Sorry, Todd…" he muttered as he laid his friend in the bed and hurried out of the infirmary.

--- ---

Deep within the confines of the newly restored Membrane Labs was a very, very special room. It was filled with the latest in medical science the world had to offer, from a state of the art access hatch which kept this special room hermetically sealed off from the outside world to protect from even the tiniest microbe, to the wide array of bio-scanners and even a fully-functional automated medic on stand-by…just in case. All this and more had been painstakingly assembled in this most special of rooms to ensure the fullest recovery of the World's Greatest Scientist, Professor Membrane.

The great Professor Membrane was currently pacing the chamber in an ultra-sterilized, hypoallergenic robe and fuzzy bunny slippers. He rubbed at the annoying growth of stubble on his chin, anxious to get back to SAVING THE WORLD through the advancement of SCIENCE. Which he felt perfectly capable of doing, despite those idiots who kept telling him to just 'relax' while they worked on his respirator.

"FOOLS!" he roared aloud. "I could've designed, tested, and built a hundred man-portable respirator/filtration units in the time it's taking these MORONS to repair just one! What in the name of Einstein are they doing up there, anyway? No doubt they goofing off, neglecting their duties while the whole WORLD inches ever closer to DISASTER! Don't they realize that there's no room for slacking in SCIENCE?! WE MUST BE DELIGENT AND EVER VIGILANT, LEST THE VERY UNIVERSE FALLS INTO CHAOS!"

"Wow," barked a voice over the vidcom. "I guess that talking to myself was inherited…"

Membrane whirled around, overjoyed to see Dib's face on the screen. "SON! You don't know how happy I am to see you well again! And maybe sane, too?"

"Depends on who you ask…" Dib muttered, still getting used to seeing his father's face and just how creepy the resemblance was between them. He fidgeted then pushed something through the hatch. "I fixed your respirator….and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what, son?" Membrane asked, adjusting the respirator before practically skipping out of the chamber.

Dib glared at him. "Oh gee, where do I start? I destroyed most of your lab and tried to kill you!"

"Is that all?" chuckled indulgently the professor as he patted Dib's shoulder. "You didn't have to apologize for _that_, son. Patricidal urges are pretty normal in our family."

"Yeah, speaking of family… When were you going to tell me I'm not really your son but a fucking clone?!"

"Now son, there's no need for that kind of language." The professor muttered, "And, if you want to get technical about it, both you and your sister are not clones but unique, ultra-advanced biodroids."

Dib blinked in surprise. "So Gaz is from the lab too?"

"Of course! Wasn't it obvious? The clues were right there in your names! See, your mom and I used the serial numbers of your prototypes to name you kids. You were named DIB because you were number 492 and your sister's name came from the number 716, hence GA-ZETA, or just 'GAZ' for short."

"So I don't even have a _name_? Just a number?" Dib whispered. "My god, am I even **_human_**? Or am I just another in a series of artificial life-forms?"

"Of course you're human! After a fashion…" barked Membrane then he rather awkwardly added, "See son, you kids are chimeras, actually, of mine and your mother's DNA since she was…eh, not entirely _human_… You've got enough of my DNA to be technically considered a part of the species _Homo sapiens_."

"But that's not the same as being **_human_**," hissed the paranormalist. There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Dib spoke, his voice bitter and oddly broken. "All these years, I thought that I was a human. That I was sane and normal, just like everyone else. It was just that everyone else was too blinded by their own pettiness to understand the _TRUTH._ But I never was normal to begin with, was I? How much of my childhood can I sure of was **_real_**? I mean, who's to say you didn't just implant all my childhood memories before I was decanted? " He began giggling and crying at the same time. "Hell, I can't even be sure of how I was born!"

"We used an artificial womb. It was more _ethical_ than employing a surrogate."

"Ethical? What the fuck do you know about ethics, you bastard?!" Dib screamed. The lights flickered ominously. "If you had any shred of moral decency in you, you would have told Gaz and me all of this years ago! Why did you lie to us? Why did you lie to **_me_**?"

"I never lied to you, son," came the reply. "I…thought it was best that you grow up like a regular child instead of spending your life confined to a lab. That's the kind of isolation can make a person go a little _crazy_. I just wanted you to have a normal life."

Dib began the laugh softly. "Do you have any idea the shit I've had to put up with? All my life, all my _normal_ classmates and peers told me that I was crazy. They thought that I was weird for being so smart and perceptive… That I was a lunatic for believing in aliens and Bigfoot and the paranormal. And you, always referring to me as your '_insane son_', always pushing me to take up real SCIENCE… How _dare you_ fucking stand there and tell me I had to suffer through this living HELL because you wanted me to be normal!"

"At least I gave you a choice son, unlike your grandfather…" Membrane snapped back angrily while he pulled on a fresh lab coat. "Ever since I was a zygote, I was groomed to be a SCIENTIST. I didn't have coloring books or building blocks like the other kids. Oh NO! Instead of toys like a normal boy, all I got were Bunsen burners and test tubes, electron microscopes and atom smashers! Or **_socks_**…" The professor hissed the last part nastily, yanking on his boot. "Your grandfather wouldn't let me read comics books, just treatises on nuclear physics and theoretical mathematics. While other boys were playing catch with their fathers, I was in the lab building a cold fusion reactor! The only home I ever knew was the laboratory! I never even had real friends, just colleagues and fellow researchers. The only reason I even met your mother was because she had been brought in from some laboratory in Massachusetts for future research into the abilities of unspeakably ancient extradimensional beings. And let's not forget that all the toxic fumes and other noxious shit I've been exposed to have fucked up my respiratory system to the point that I can't even breathe without this goddamn respirator!"

Shocked that his father actually cursed, Dib only gaped at him. Then, a sudden disturbing thought shocked him back to his senses. Hesitantly, Dib spoke up. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"What, son?" asked the professor after he regained his composure.

"How did Grandfather Mabuse die? I mean, was it really a lab accident?"

The professor stood there blank faced and grim. "Son, I want you to understand…"

"You killed him, didn't you?" gasped Dib in shock before bursting into mad laughter again. "You murdered your own father?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Professor Membrane told his son, his heir, and his clone the whole shocking truth.

Unfortunately, his answer was drowned out by the sudden wailing of sirens.

"What the HELL is going on?!" Dib shouted above the noise.

"Oh, nothing son," replied the professor, barely raising his voice as they walked quickly to the main lab. He was completely oblivious to the panicked scientists and interns rushing past them. "It's only the Sub-Orbital Defense Array."

Dib said nothing and instead stared in alarm at the monitors. On every screen were scenes of chaos and carnage as the imperious forces of the Irken military launched a surprise attack on the Earth.

"You see, son," continued Membrane absolutely ignorant to the situation as he turned down the sirens. "I designed the SODA when I was about your age and going through the whole 'teen angst' phase. Back then I was always working on new weapon systems or bio-warfare projects… Oh what a wonderful times those were, let me tell you! But I digress… The SODA was supposed to be a tracking system capable of detecting anything larger than a piece of toast and capable of physics-defying aerial maneuvers traveling within Earth's atmosphere. I meant to use it to track the movements of **_Santa's_** accursed sleigh as it sped about the world, making a mockery of SCIENCE! But there's a major glitch in the system that causes it to go off at random, especially on Tuesdays."

Ripping his attention away from the broadcasts of the invasion, Dib gave his father the coldest of looks. "You're telling me you had a system capable of proving the existence of UFOs this whole time?"

"Well, I suppose so," muttered Membrane after a moment's thought. "If such things existed, then I guess SODA would be able to track them…"

"Okay. Let's just say that there are extraterrestrial beings capable of faster-than-light space travel out there in the universe. Now, let's say that these aliens were visiting Earth for various reasons, like research or to scout out the planet for an invasion force. Now, do you think that maybe, just _maybe_ all those glitches in your system could actually be these alien ships cruising around Earth?"

"Young man, I'm surprised at you!" scolded the professor. "I thought you'd given up all this alien nonsense years ago."

"Dad, haven't you been watching the news lately?" Dib growled, doing his best to control his rising temper. The images on the screens around them distorted from an electrical disturbance.

"Why, no son, I **_haven't_**. I've been locked away in some dingy little cell—in my own lab, no less!—and, thanks to my assistants' assertion that I 'needed _rest_', I spent the last couple of months completely and utterly cut-off from the outside world!"

"Then look at the monitors…" hissed Dib, pointing to the main screen behind the professor. On it was a scene straight out of the latest science fiction blockbuster complete with sleek red-purple UFOs tangling with Air Force jet-fighters in the skies above the city while squads of soldiers battled the hordes of short, green and vaguely bug-like aliens in the streets.

Membrane looked thoughtfully at the screen. "Hmmm…those little green men look just like that little foreign boy you used to hang around with."

Glaring now, Dib shouted, "Of course they look like Zim! His entire species reproduces by cloning! **_ZIM IS A FUCKING ALIEN!!!!!_**"

"But son," countered the professor politely. "You said yourself that aliens do not exist. And also that the little green foreign boy just had a freakish skin condition."

"I LIED, OKAY?!" Dib burst out angrily. "I'VE BEEN LYING TO YOU AND THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD FOR YEARS!"

"I see..." Leaning in closer to the monitors, Membrane watched the battle with mild interest. "So all the green guys in uniforms are aliens?"

"Yes!" Dib barked.

"And they're all part of an Evil Galactic Empire bent on enslaving the Earth?"

"YES!"

"Interesting… And you say that Zim, the little green foreign boy you were always chasing around, is actually one of their advanced scouts?"

"_YE—…" _Dib paused suddenly. "Well, actually Zim was sent here on a fake mission to keep him busy while the rest of the Empire conquered the Universe. He sort of ruined their first attempt at galactic conquest and destroyed most of his own home planet…He was essentially banished to Earth from him homeworld."

"Why Earth?"

"Because this wretched little planet just isn't worth conquering…"

"I see," replied the professor. "So if Zim isn't really part of the invasion force, then why are they here? If the Earth isn't of strategic importance to them, then why send all the soldiers? Seems pretty odd, doesn't it son, to waste all these resources on some backwater hick-world."

"Look, I don't know why the Irkens are here now. Maybe Zim told them there were massive stockpiles of Pixie Stixs and nachos…"

"Nachos? Candy?" mumbled Membrane, arching his eyebrow. "Why by Newton's apple would a highly advanced race of aliens waste there time raiding planets for _snack food_? It just doesn't make sense!"

"Don't bother trying to make any sense of why the Irkens do anything," Dib growled. "Their entire species is just a bunch of shallow, arrogant, egotistical, hedonistic bastards who are only looking out for themselves and fuck everything else. Even their so-called rulers are just figureheads for a puppet government driven by corporate interests to keep their citizens dependent upon a superficial, media-hyped consumerism. All they care about is making a quick buck and quite literally sticking it to the little guy."

"I see."

"God dammit! Would you stop saying that?" Dib snapped.

Membrane just shrugged and pulled as set of keys out of his pocket. He tossed them to his son. "Those should get you into the armory. Feel free to take whatever you want and have fun saving the world, son." With that, Professor Membrane turned and began to walk away.

"That's it?!" snarled Dib, rushing over to his father's side. "No dramatic speeches on bravery and how this is Earth's darkest hour? No offers of sage advice? Not even an apology for treating me like some deranged lunatic all these years for believing in aliens when it turns out I've been right all along?"

"Would it make any difference to you, son?" asked Membrane, his tone strange and sad. When Dib only stared at him blankly, the professor shook his head and walked away, vanishing into a teleporter booth.

--- ---

_~Meanwhile, back at M.I.N.D.P.H.U.C.K headquarters…_

Slowly….painfully slowly... the Squee human came back to consciousness, jerking back when he saw the blank black visor of a helmet staring at him.

"=D" flashed across the helmet's visor of the strange, skeletal robot waving cheerfully at him.

"H-I-!-S-Q-U-E-E-!" scrolled across the visor.

"Hello indeed, dirt-monkey…." hissed Zim, pulling Dib's old trench-coat on over his new uniform as he stepped out of the shadows to gloat over the boy now imprisoned in the containment tube. He laughed nastily at the Squee human's howls of rage and futile attempts to strike him. "How does it feel to be _helpless_? To be completely at the enemy's mercy?!"

"Depends…" hissed Todd, suddenly going very, very calm. "Did you activate _all _the restraints?"

"Yes," answered a slender, helmed figure standing at Zim's side. "I turned all psionic dampeners up to the maximum setting and took the liberty of setting up a nullifier field around your containment tube just in case the dampeners fail…"

"Oooo… Aren't you the smart one?" The sneer came with a rather nasty look at the screen faced robot. "Is _this_ your handiwork too? How **_kind_** of you…"

She hissed angrily at Todd. "Well, it was a lot kinder than what **_you_** did to him!"

"Enough of this banter!" Zim snapped with an imperious flip of his coat tails as he spun around and headed up the stairs. "Come, Gretchen! We have a planet to conquer!"

"But Zim!" She gasped, catching him right at elevator. "Aren't you going to do anything?"

"About what? **_Him_**?" He barely glanced back at Todd floating and smiling coldly in the tube before letting out a smug laugh. "HOHO! He's not _worthy _of Zim's attention! I have much more important matters to deal with! Besides, I'm sure the cyborg drone can handle this measly little waste of monkey meat if it tries to escape."

"But… oh bother!" Sighing, she followed Zim into the elevator and rode with him to upper levels. A few of Space Marines saluted as they stepped out into the hall while the rest seemed to be too caught up in looting, snacking, and generally wrecking havoc to notice their Commander.

"Isn't it glorious, Gretchen dear?" purred Zim as he strolled leisurely past a group of Irken soldiers electro-shocking a captive human into submission. "Soon—oh so very _soon_—we shall have this whole dirtball under our control and then it is on to STAGE TWO of my MASTER PLAN! OVERTHROWING THE TALLEST!"

"Uh, Zim… Shouldn't you keep your voice down?" Gretchen glanced around nervously at the hordes of troops milling about them. "I mean, this isn't the kind of thing you should be saying in public…"

"Nonsense! My troops are utterly loyal to me and me ALONE! Watch." He turned to a nearby Irken. "SOLDIER! Tell me, what do you think about our Almighty Tallests?"

"FUCK 'EM!" growled the Marine, dropping the quivering mass of flesh he'd been beating. "AND FUCK YOU TOO, YOU PRIMATE FUCKING PERVERT! I'M JUST HERE TO KILL AND BLOW SHIT UP!"

Zim grinned happily. "There you go! Complete and total loyalty!"

Again, Gretchen just sighed and followed in Zim's wake, doing her best to avoid bodies and rubble. She finally managed to catch up to him just as he was climbing into a hovercraft. "Zim, I really don't think it's a good idea to just leave that boy here. We should kill him or lobotomize him or something… I mean, if he escapes, things could turn really _ugly_…"

"Silly Gretchen!" the Irken chuckled as he stepped up to the observation platform. "Always worrying about the what-ifs! I told you, the Casil monster is nothing to worry about!"

"Then what about Gaz?" she harped, taking her place at his side. "She's still as yet unaccounted for! Do you realize what a problem she could be if she decides to get involved?"

"HA! THAT'LL NEVER HAPPEN!" Zim cried proudly over the roaring wind as they speed back toward the city. "THE GAZ MONSTER COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO SAVE THIS MISERABLE DIRTBALL! BESIDES, WHAT REASON DOES SHE HAVE TO CARE?"

With a sigh, Gretchen gave up arguing with him and started figuring out some contingency plans. Unbeknownst to either her or the ever arrogant Zim, far atop a nearby ridge a tiny little robot was sitting and dutifully watching their departure.

"THEY GONE, SCARY LADY!" G.I.R. announced gleefully as he bounced over to her.

"Good." Shouldering a duffel bag, Gaz readjusted the battlesuit she'd 'borrowed' from her father's lab and double checked the plasma rifle. She walked up to the top of the ridge and looked down at the miserably disorganized 'guards' Zim had left behind at the base. "This shouldn't take too long. G.I.R., I want you to wait right here while I go get Todd, okay?"

"But Master, what about the b—"

"No 'buts', G.I.R. I told you, I'm feeling just fine. Besides, this shouldn't take long at all…" On that, she dashed away, disappearing in the valley below.

The tiny robot stared after her, his face oddly downcast. "I have a bad feeling about this, Master. Please come back…"

~~~ _To be continued…_ ~~~

[A/N: I am a horrible person for making you all wait.]


End file.
